The death of a friend

The past four or so months in my life have been very rough. Today was one of those examples of how some things can really suck in life. One of my cats seemed to be not feeling well. For a couple days, he would not eat or would eat very little. He has not curled up at my feet on the bed in a couple of days. He has not been walking into a room and rubbing against everyone and everything as he normally does. At one time, I thought I should have named him Ramses, since he was quite a rubber.

Woodie was named after Teresa's grandfather. A year ago in February or so, her grandmother wanted a kitten. We know someone who has a lot of cats and we got her one. We knew who Woodie's parents were, and they were always indoor cats. We brought Woodie to Greensboro, where the grandparents were living. After a few days, this old woman got tired of the kitten, so we agreed to drive all the way back to Greensboro and get him. We had him ever since. I decided to name him after Joseph Woodie, Teresa's grandfather. We just called him Woodie.

Woodie was a joy to have around. He loved to head bonk me and Daisy. Sometimes, he would bonk Daisy so hard, she would almost fall over. He came by regularly and wanted to be scratched on his head. Each morning when I would wake up, when the cats would get the idea that I may be awake, they would come running into the bedroom along with Daisy. Woodie was always the first to jump on the bed and want to be petted. When feeding, he often jumped up on the stove and tried to sneak a preview of the coming meal.

The past couple of days, his appetite was small and he was more lethargic than usual. He would sleep a lot, but not in his usual spot on the foot of the bed. He would not come greet me in the morning. He often just laid down on the floor in one of the rooms. His breathing became a bit labored and rapid.

I took him to the vet this afternoon. The doctor remembered me from when I came in with Morris on May 30th. Morris had feline leukemia and was going downhill fast. We had to put Morris to sleep that day. We gave Woodie a FeLV test and he came back positive, which was quite frankly, expected.

He started to bleed profusely after having his blood drawn, which was a sign that his platelets were not right. I knew what I had to do, but hated to do it. I had Woodie euthanized this afternoon. He was suffering and would not be around much longer, since he had a terminal disease and was degrading fast. In just a few days, he went from being a bit chunky to losing a bunch of weight. I used to say that he was getting to be a roundo from eating all the dog food.

Decisions like this are never easy. It is even harder to see your baby boy suffering, knowing what is ahead for him, even if he is just a cat. He was my companion. I will really miss Woodie.