Our poor Mookie was put to rest last Tuesday May 5th. He was somewhere between 15 and 17 years old.
Those who follow my sporadic posts will recall I inherited Mookie when my father passed away nearly six years ago.
Mookie was starting to show his age over the last few weeks. For example, he would sit in his water bowl while he ate. He stopped shredding my furniture in the pursuit of sharpening his claws. He stopped waking me up at the crack of dawn. In his final days, he simply stopped taking care of himself.
When it comes to senior cats there is indeed a balancing act. One wants to make sure kitty is still content and comfortable. When there is any indication that that stops happening, it's time to make a trip to the vet.
That is the harshest moment in cat ownership - packing up a kitty in a carrier, knowing full well it will be the last he will see of his home. While kitty is oblivious.
I tend not to get too emotional over the loss of a pet. I have had far more heart-wrenching experiences. I've lost family members, friends and ex-boyfriends. I'll save my mourning for those events.
Farewell Mookie. You lived a full life, and I'm happy to have given you another six years.
Categories: Mookie
Random thoughts from a cat servant.
