I am not sure if I can finish this piece but I am starting it. My cat Billy was my close companion for 15 years. We adopted him from a shelter when he was 4 years old. I had just gotten a job in Reno. We were moving from Modesto and Ricky was retiring. I moved first and started my new job the week of Thanksgiving 2007. It was just Billy and I for several months until Rick's retirement was complete the following April.
When we went to the shelter to pick out a cat, Ricky found Billy. We went into a room where they let him out of his cage and we could experience each other. He was such a mellow cat. You could hold him without being clawed. You could flip him on his back and rub his tummy (a no no with most cats). He was just what we wanted.
Billy never met a stranger. Anyone who came to the house was greeted by him. He really loved repairmen. Most cats go and hide under the bed, but not Billy, he wanted to be in the center of the action all the time. And he knew his name from the start. People were amazed that he would come when you called him.
Billy loved people but he was my cat. He knew what time I came home from work and would be waiting by the door. Rick could be there watching TV and Billy curled up next him, but then he would jump up and go to the door meowing as I entered.
If I was sick he would sleep on or next to me. He could sense something was wrong and he wanted to comfort me.
He really was the best cat I have ever had in my life.
I was there for him in the end.
He has been having little strokes or seizures for years. He usually snaps out of them and is back to his old self in a few days. Really nothing you can do for them. He was on a special diet because he had trouble with his bladder. Urinary track infections were common.
This last week was different. And I am thankful it didn't start while we were in Maui. (He was fine with the cat sitter.) But then on Tuesday he fell off the couch and rolled under the coffee table. His paws were twitching. He got up and snapped out of it again. Wednesday I got up and slipped in the hall on the way to the kitchen. Billy had an accident in the hallway. He never pees on the floor. This was a first.
I ordered him some more special treats for urinary track health. I had not been able to find them in the store, so he was eating regular treats. I thought that might be the issue.
Saturday his new treats came. He was eating like normal and using his box. We watch a movie and he was in my lap. I left him sleeping on the couch and we went to bed. At 3 am I heard him mournfully cry out. I yelled his name to wake him up, thinking it was a bad dream. Then something made me go out and check on him.
He was sprawled out on the couch convulsing and his bladder had let loose again. I picked him up and held him in my arms. He was limp and having trouble breathing. He made some more guttural groans. He was dying. I started to cry and screams for Ricky. "Billy is dying!" Ricky came into the room he saw Billy in my arms and stroked his head. He was gone in a few more minutes.
What to do next? We were both a reck. Rick got on the computer to find a number for animal control or something. The county places were all closed. It was supposed to be record heat on Sunday. We needed to find a solution.
We found a place that was open 24/7 and did pickups, called Rainbow to Heaven. The man came at 8:30 am and took my poor baby to be cremated. They were very nice on the phone. The guy who came to the house tried to comfort me. As I turn over the box I had place him in he asked me how old Billy was.....I started to cry. I pulled myself together and told him 19. He said he had lived a full life and that I should not worry. They would take good care of him.
I have been in a funk ever since.
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