I've been lurking here for a rather long time, and I figured this thread might be a good place to type some things out.
Around one year ago, every time me and my mom got home from work/school, we noticed there was this redhaired cat who kept looking at us as we parked (We got a paid parking space). Around a month later, being the goodhearted fools we are, we started feeding the cat. At this point we gave this kitty a name: Rosco. Because "Ros" is a sort of term for red hair we use in Belgium, so i figured i could make a little pun of sorts.
This continued on for 2ish months until a little incident happened: As we came home someday in September, we noticed that Rosco was sort of limping on his back left leg. Concerned about this we told the "neighboorhood cat lady", who's a nice person and knows about 95% of the cats in the neighboorhood. She's in some sort of organisation who tries to help stray cats as much as possible, and she told us she would take Rosco to the vet and see what's up.
A day or two later we heard back, and the verdict wasnt bad, a slight tendon rupture. At this point the lady told us she had her hands full at the moment and if she had to take Rosco in for a bit she'd have to put him in a cage so he doesnt move too much for his injured leg.
So we offered to take him in.
As the weeks passed by, we got emotionally attached to the little fellow as he became energetic and playful as the days passed by
So we decided to keep him with us forever, since we couldnt bear to toss him back out on the street again, it didn't seem like he wanted to leave either. After all, he finally has company, food, and fresh water.
Fast forward 7.5 months, around the 5th of June. Rosco looked "off", he wasn't energetic, and looked like he had trouble breathing. Worried, we went to the vet as soon as we could, he told us he suspects that it might be some heart issues, which he gave us medication for, and we were off back home again.
around 12 days later, he got severely worse. He wasn't even able to stand on his legs anymore. Not even to relieve himself in the litterbox. I remember when he looked so ashamed when he accidentally wet himself...
We immediatly contacted our secondary vet, because at this point the usual doctor was on holiday. She told us to come over at 8, which we did.
I remember the ride down to the vet, I hated the sun for shining so brightly as it did at that moment, because deep down, when you see a pet in a condition like this, you know there is a large possibility you won't like what you get to hear from the doctor...
We arrived at the doctor's place and she told us to put poor Rosco up on the examination desk thingy, she immediatly remarked how very weak he looked. However even the fact she was able to examine Rosco so carefully was disheartening to us, because he was always incredibly skittish and energetic around strangers. She told us that judging by his symptoms that he had a stroke at some point, and his near paralysis was a side effect of this stroke. She also told us that she thought it possible that he had feline AIDS, so she took some blood. After she took the sample of blood she used a testing thing she had in the back.
Those 10 minutes of waiting were some of the most agonizing I ever had to endure.
She came back after she had run some tests, and of course, as fate would have it. Positive reaction.
She explained a bit to us about what this entailed for poor Rosco, and what it came down to was basically the same for human beings. It basically destroys your defences against any viruses or diseases and make you more feeble in general.
She also told us that combined with the stroke he was still suffering from, things weren't looking good for him. Even if he did recover from the effects of the stroke, he could just as easily get sick again right after, and it would just be one thing from the next. And then she said the things you never want to hear when you're at the vet with a pet:
"I think it might be for the best if we put him to sleep..."
Immediatly tears set in for both me and mom, who after adopting Rosco became a cat person if you will, and started feeding more kitties at the parking grounds.
We both sobbingly agreed that with things looking this dark and grim for him, it truly might be for the best if we let him be put to sleep.
She gave us a few minutes to say goodbye to our little buddy, then said that he won't feel a thing from the injection, and it would be over in a split second.
I still remember holding his poor head in my hands as the injection went in, looking into his poor eyes as he didnt know what was happening. As soon as the injection was over, I saw a slight spark in his eyes as he shut down, which probably won't leave my mind for a long time. A little bit of his tongue escaped his mouth as his final breath of life escaped him.
It was the most depressing moment of my life. Me and mom very upset about the loss of our little friend... It was as if the sky knew something was wrong, because as soon as we got out of the practice, a huge downpour started...
I will never forget poor Rosco, for however brief he was actually in our home.
Never thought losing a pet would be THIS painful.
In before TL;DR cause i'm typing this at 2 AM and my current mindset is rather "don't really care."
R.I.P. Rosco 2001-2010
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" around friends. And at first, she would come talk to me about her problems on chat late at night. She would talk to me, I'd listen, and we'd both end happily. Then recently, I invited her and a couple friends to watch a movie, the day before I went camping for 10 days. While we were watching, she started to cuddle with me and held hands. Every now and then, I could see out of the corner of my eye that she would turn her face towards mine, with her nose on my cheek and looking into my eyes. I didn't know if she wanted me to do something at those moments and now I constantly kick my self at being such an idiot for not turning to her.
