I had to have my older cat Amelia put to sleep today. She had chronic renal failure and my vet told me euthanasia was the best course so she wouldn't suffer. I understand that on a logical level. She couldn't go on as she was. So I have been to the vet and I have said my goodbyes. My friend Cliff met me at the Clinic to offer much appreciated and much needed moral support. Amelia won't suffer now and as I said, logically, I understand it was the best and right thing to do.
But oh I will miss her. She was a hard cat to get to know. When I
adopted her four years ago from my friend Trish, Amelia hated my guts. I
often joked that I was afraid that she would murder me in my sleep. But
over time, as she came to think of me as 'her' person, she became a
very affectionate cat. She wouldn't let you pick her up or hold her, but
she would sit beside you and let you pet her and rub her head. I loved
to hear her purr, because she only did it sparingly. And please don't
tell my other cat Bruce, but she was my favorite.
Amelia didn't take crap from anyone. If you got in her space she
would let you have it. This especially went for her younger and much
larger brother Bruce. He may have had more weight and more muscle, but
she had the most attitude. She was the most cat-like cat you can
imagine. Proud. Independent. Scornful. Barely tolerant of her brother
and me in our dog-like maleness. A Bengal breed, she had long soft fur
and beautiful green eyes.
From what I've read of CRF, it builds over time but the symptoms don't
really show until the cat is very far along. Amelia didn't show any
signs of any problems until just a couple of weeks ago and that seemed
minor. But when the real symptoms came she went downhill fast. In some
ways that's a blessing. She didn't suffer for long. Instead she had more
than ten good years, four of them with me, and she was a happy, crazy,
quirky, loving cat for all of that time.
Last night she slept in her favorite spot on my bed, leaning against
my leg. She had her favorite treat, deli turkey, for breakfast this
morning. Her appetite had been failing and that was all she would eat.
I once told someone that after dealing with life for all these years
that there wasn't enough of my heart left to be broken again. I was