I had to have my beautiful cat, Patch, put to sleep this morning! Yesterday we took her in for a check-up at the vet’s office. He diagnosed a crumbling tooth so we took her back this morning for the extraction, but while she was under the anaesthetic, he found a lump in her bowel. He phoned me from the operating theatre and told me the bad news and I made the decision, which no pet lover likes to make. She was nearly fourteen years old – a good age for a cat.
We had suspected for a while that all was not well with Patch. Her tummy had been making some very odd noises and she had been sick more often and had ‘other’ problems of a dietary nature. I wondered if it was getting used to Millie being here that had upset her tummy, but now we know better. Millie and Patch tolerated each other, but they weren’t exactly friends. Patch just wanted to lie about sleeping most of the time, but Millie, being younger, liked to chase and play much more. Patch just wasn’t interested.
I think the vet had his suspicions! Perhaps he got Patch in for the tooth extraction so he could do some more in-depth investigations under the anaesthetic.
I feel bereft. That cat has been part of my life for fourteen years nearly and she will be sorely missed. When I was in America she kept J company, but she was always pleased to see me back. She was very loyal. I had her from a kitten, together with her mum and four brothers and sisters so I knew the history of her. For a while she lived next door because my neighbour wanted her and in those days she was called ‘Taz’, but then they bought a large collie dog and then another. The first dog was kind to cats, but the second one wasn’t and bit Patch’s leg quite badly. She, remembering where her life started off, shot through our cat-flap in the back door and never returned next door again! I nursed her back to health on that occasion.
Patch lost another of her nine lives a couple of years ago when the cat across the road, I call him ‘The Ghost’ bit a chunk out of her ear, necessitating an operation. You can see that clearly on the photo above.
She always used to sit on my suitcase when I was getting ready to go to America. It was as if she was saying ‘Please don’t go…’ now this morning, I found myself saying to her ‘Please don’t go, not yet…’
I have cleaned her chair and put away her dirt box and told Millie not to expect her playmate today.
I am left with my tears and a rather large hankie…