I lost my beloved kitty Daniel Tiger this week. He was fine up until a couple of weeks ago, chasing the other cats and poking me in the face with his claws so I’d get up and feed him. At 5 am. Then, suddenly, he started having problems with balance. He scratched my husband out of nowhere, kept knocking things over and couldn’t stand up straight. He wouldn’t eat, so we had to feed him with a syringe. Wet cat food stinks, but he’s worth it.
We took him to the vet two Saturdays ago, and she said that it was one of two things-vestibular ataxia caused by an ear infection, or a brain tumor. She didn’t know which, so we started treating for the former with steroids and special food. He seemed to be getting better for a while there but, about six days ago, he took a turn for the worse. Poor thing was in so much pain he was growling, and he was never a very ‘vocal’ cat. We took him to the vet this Wednesday and had no choice but to put him down. It was freezing when we went to bury him that day…very fitting.
Anyone who says that you can’t get attached to a pet because they don’t have souls of their own is full of it. That kitty had been with me through moves, breakups, relationships that never should have happened and all kinds of awful stuff. He’s been with me for ten years, making him the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a ‘man’. Is that sad, or what? He always seemed to know when I needed love and was more than willing to give it. Everyone who met him loved him. I missed him the moment he died, and I’ll miss him for a long time coming. I know some people will say, he’s just a cat. Maybe so, but he was like a child to me, possibly the only type I’ll ever have. I hope not, but we shall see.
Rest in peace, Daniel. I’ll see you again someday.