EPTMickey
We got Mickey at a shelter when my father was still in the Navy, he got stationed in a nice little town on the southwest coast of Spain, called Rota.
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Rota's seashore.
He was only a young kitten when we got him, about 3 weeks old. He had a sister they named Mini, we never took her, and to this day we somewhat regret not taking his sister with us. Their mother had be run over by a car, the shelter had just taken them in. These were not domesticated cats, these were very much wild cats, their mother lived in the wild and i'm sure would have raised them as such had she lived.
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My father with Mickey, he was maybe 2 years old at the time of this picture.
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Me with Mickey, in the apartment complex we lived at in Spain
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Mickey lounging on the washing machine.
It was early on that we realized we definantly had a very special cat, and that he was infact, very wild. I recall a time when my parents walked into our kitchen, and found it strewn with feathers and blood, along with a dead bird.
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So, where did you put it? I could swear I left it here...
I really became a believer in the 'cats have 9 lives' that people think they have.
First time I saw it was in Spain. there was a road not far from where we lived, he almost got ran over one time, I was watching this at the time and was fucking hysterical, but he came through without a scratch on him.
The second time, well, he ended up falling about 15 feet or so. This was still in Spain, and on the side of an apartment complex next to ours, they had vines going up all over the wall, which he was climbing and they ended up giving way.
From then on his breathing was permanently altered, it sounded a bit wheezy, but it was very characteristic. I could listen to 100 cats breathing one after another and I could pick him out no problem.
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Falling off walls, and getting run over by cars? aint shit
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At our first house when we moved to the states in 96, we had woods in our backyard which served as his hunting ground, bringing in several snakes over the years we were there.
We moved to a more upscale neighborhood years ago. This is where my family had several scares with him. He got in several fights with other cats, sometimes waking me up late at night, having to go outside to chase the fucker off. He never really got injured from these.
One night though, my mom found him in the garage (we usually left the garage door open a bit as he would go out alot at night.) and he was lying on the floor bleeding and we had to rush him to the vet. Don't know for sure what got him, he had bits of some animal skin in his claws though, so something got him, the vet thought it was a dog. He was fine the next day for the most part luckily.
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Waiting to go outside at the home I live in now
Another time, it was late at night. I woke up to a sound coming from outside, near the front door. I thought someone was trying to break in or something. I peek out the blinds to find him flinging a squirrel into the side of the house. I went outside to see wtf was going on and the squirrel was on its back, all fours up, dead. Keep in mind me must have been about 11 or 12 when this happened. He still had the hunters instinct in him till the end.
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He loved boxes
When he was about 12 or 13, he was diagnosed with kidney failure. Now, kidney failure has no cure, however with a good diet, and specialized food like K/D, for kidney health, it can be managed for a long time, and the cat can live a healthy life, which he did, but ultimately it delays the inevitable which is full kidney failure.
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For a cat thats about 15 years old here, he is doing pretty good.
He had been sick for a few days, and wasn't eating. My parent's decided to put him to sleep. I remember carrying him to put him in his kennel, It's like he knew what was going to happen, and was content with the life he had with us.
From someday in April 1993 when you were born, to September 1, 2010, you were the best friend a kid could ask for, thanks for being there with me.
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R.I.P Mickey. Maybe we can see eachother again sometime.
Kody
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Taking a nap on some laundry
Kody was never actually ours, she was my sisters boyfriends. Yeah, my sister had a boyfriend who was in the Navy. He had a cat, they went on a cruise sometime around 2006 or so and we took care of her during then. Not long after, he had orders to be stationed in La Maddalena, in Sardinia, the island off Italy. So we kept her during his tour there.
She ended up growing on us so we ended up keeping her. Now, this was a cat that had grown to be afraid of humans. Her boyfriend got her from a pound, and his roomates would abuse her/scare the shit out of her by putting her in dryers, fucked up shit like that. So, when we first had her, she would be under the bed CONSTANTLY. It took a long time for her to get comfortable around us.
She was extremely prone to change though. She especially hated the furniture being moved. Put her in a room she has been in before where you rearranged the furniture, she would run right out. She also somewhat hated company, and would go into hiding whenever we had guests over. She even liked to go outside in the backyard, which was unheard off, she was terrified of the outdoors in general, but I suppose she trusted us enough.
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Laying in the sun, this would be her favorite spot in the house during a sunny day.
Back in March, she was having problems eating, she was drooling alot, had a foul odor from her mouth. I was somewhat hoping and praying that it would be an abscess in her mouth and nothing serious. Took her to the vet where we took my dog a few times. They put her under anesthesia, and said it was cancer.
My parent's didn't want to give up, so we went to the other vet in town, that used to be in charge of Mickey's care. We figure she knew more about older cats and specialized in cats so if we can trust anyones opinion it would be hers.
She said it was cancer.
My family decided to lay down the about $550 for the cost of the surgery. She had it done, the vet called and said it went great, and that they were going to keep her overnight. I was ecstatic.
Here's where it turns shitty. The vet calls up the next morning, say's that she had chewed off half her tounge during the night. (half is a relative word here, think of a cats tongue, and then imagine it being shorter in length and missing the sides, like a triangle almost, thats what her tongue looked like.)
We kept her in a cage where we could watch her constantly. She smelled horrible, like a very strong hospital smell that seemingly never went away. Blood was all over the front half of her body. Still, she seemed to get better. She could'nt eat though, not solid foods anyways. We had to feed her a special canned food, and we had to almost hand feed her with a spoon. She would eat by herself but the only way she could was to stick her face in it and start eating, think of pie-eating contests where they tie their hands together behind their backs, that's the only way she could eat on her own.
She could'nt groom herself either so I had to give her baths quite frequently, which she seemed to enjoy. She still liked to go outside as well, so I would sit outside and watch her. She still had that urge to explore everything around here, she never lost that.
Around October or so I noticed the cancer had probably returned. Her jaw was slanted, like it was paralyzed, she was starting to drool again, and it had that distinct odor that I sadly remembered from months earlier. She started to stop eating. One morning my mother noticed her mouth was bleeding while she was feeding her. I went with her to the vet.
I went into the exam room, the vet came in. This is the same vet that had been taking care of Mickey all these years, and for Kody the past few years as well. She told my mother and I she was malnourished, and that the cancer had spread. She assured us that we had done everything we could for her, but she was'nt going to recover from this.
She recommended we put her sleep.
We both agreed to it. She asked if we wanted to stay and watch. Now, although by this point I had lost both a cat and dog that had both been with us for several years, I had never watched a pet be put to sleep. I looked at her and she looked at me. I could'nt just leave her in her final moments like that and just walk out.
The vet left the room and went to get the syringe, which she assured me was filled with plenty of anesthetic, and that she would'nt feel a thing. I started petting her and held her head in my hand, she started to purr. The vet came back, she shaved some of her leg, and tried to inject the syringe. She made a remark that she was so malnurished that the vein was so small like it was.
She turned her over to try the other leg. She injected it and began to massage the leg to help spread it. I was still holding her head, and petting her, looking into her eyes. Her breathing got shallower, her purrs were getting quiter. She was still looking at me, her eyes staring into mine. The vet looked at us and said, "she's gone". I began to cry a bit. The vet said we could leave if we wanted to right now, and walked out of the room.
I looked at her one last time, put my fingers over her eyelids to close them. I walked to the doorway, and took one look back. I don't know why I looked back, It wasn't pretty and it wasn't how I was going to remember her, but I am still glad I got to see her one last time. She passed away a week before Thanksgiving.
I remember what the vet told me that day. She said to remember Kody as who she was, not the horrible disease that defined her in her last months or so. I do.
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Rest peacefully, Kody.
I have wanted to type up something like this for awhile now, but the right word's never really came to me.
Thanks for taking the time to read this, and getting to know the two greatest cats I have had the pleasure of being with in my life.
And since it is almost Christmas, on a more upbeat note I would like to wish everyone at Teamliquid a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, you have been a great community to me these last 3 years or so that I have been here, even if I was a lurker for most of them.
Edit: fixed some typos.
