Last Friday, December 7th, we lost out 10.6 year old Tabby, Trinity (aka Trin) to severe IBD/Small Cell Lymphoma. After months of daily steroids and chemo treatments that were not helping much and making him feel lousy (and which he fought increasingly hard to avoid), we decided to give him a peaceful and dignified end, at home and surrounded by his family (both furry and otherwise). In his last week, we spoiled him with all of his favorite things: chicken, bed snuggles, chicken, extra playtime, chicken, and most importantly, no drugs. Also chicken. He felt so amazing without the drugs, we saw a life in him we hadn't seen in a long time, which I hope meant that we made the right decision. It was so hard to let him go, but I hope we gave him an amazing 10+ years of love and bed cuddles.
Trin started out in his adopted life in Florida with my boyfriend Randall, 6 years before I knew them. It was a "rough" start, as Randall thought he was adopting a sweet girl kitten and named her Trinity to match his other cat, Neo. One vet visit later and he became a more masculine sounding "Trin".
Trin was not your smartest cat. Or most athletic. He had bad litterbox habits and didn't like too many cuddles at once. What he did love were people, chicken, and beds. All was right with the world if he had these three things. He was a simple cat, with simple pleasures. These are some of the things he liked:
Cuddles while squished. He loved being squished.
Grooming and/or cuddling his brother Gohan.
Laying on seemingly uncomfortable items, like wires and cords.
Weird sleeping positions. He loved laying across one arm, specifically the left arm for some reason.
Chicken. But not the WRONG chicken. This aerial view shows the moment when he almost died because we ran out of Applaws. He gave it one sniff, stomped away and flopped where you see him. Fortunately, we scraped together some leftover rotisserie and saved the day.
Bed cuddles and his "comfort" poof ball which he would carry around when he was distressed. He loved taking up most of the bed, it is where he loved the most attention and gave his deepest purrs. If you made him happy enough, he would chomp - hard - on some soft fleshy piece of you so you knew how much he loved you. It is where we feel his loss the most.
He was the grounding force in our life, and though we didn't know it, he was the brave alpha in the house that charged forward in greeting or challenge to any newcomers. In the end, he was the best Tabby he was capable of, and we miss him dearly. When we had three cats, it felt like too many all the time. Now two seems like not enough. He is missed, all 16 lbs of him, including his ridiculous 12 in long tail.
Trin started out in his adopted life in Florida with my boyfriend Randall, 6 years before I knew them. It was a "rough" start, as Randall thought he was adopting a sweet girl kitten and named her Trinity to match his other cat, Neo. One vet visit later and he became a more masculine sounding "Trin".
Trin was not your smartest cat. Or most athletic. He had bad litterbox habits and didn't like too many cuddles at once. What he did love were people, chicken, and beds. All was right with the world if he had these three things. He was a simple cat, with simple pleasures. These are some of the things he liked:
Cuddles while squished. He loved being squished.
Grooming and/or cuddling his brother Gohan.
Laying on seemingly uncomfortable items, like wires and cords.
Weird sleeping positions. He loved laying across one arm, specifically the left arm for some reason.
Chicken. But not the WRONG chicken. This aerial view shows the moment when he almost died because we ran out of Applaws. He gave it one sniff, stomped away and flopped where you see him. Fortunately, we scraped together some leftover rotisserie and saved the day.
Bed cuddles and his "comfort" poof ball which he would carry around when he was distressed. He loved taking up most of the bed, it is where he loved the most attention and gave his deepest purrs. If you made him happy enough, he would chomp - hard - on some soft fleshy piece of you so you knew how much he loved you. It is where we feel his loss the most.
He was the grounding force in our life, and though we didn't know it, he was the brave alpha in the house that charged forward in greeting or challenge to any newcomers. In the end, he was the best Tabby he was capable of, and we miss him dearly. When we had three cats, it felt like too many all the time. Now two seems like not enough. He is missed, all 16 lbs of him, including his ridiculous 12 in long tail.
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