I got Squeaky 14 years ago when a pregnant cat showed up at my parents' doorstep... one of the kittens was smaller than the others and the mother kept trying to abandon her. I called in to my temp job to tell them I couldn't make it that day and lost my job over it, but I wanted to stay home and make sure the kittens were alright. I've never regretted it.
We found out over the next few months that Squeaky had mild cerebellar hypoplasia (wobbly kitty syndrome) . She would high-step with her back legs and had the intention tremor in her head when she looked at things or ate food. She learned to walk a lot more slowly than the other kittens but was always very bright-eyed and interested and got right back up when she rolled over. And she could fully take care of herself though I would never rent a place with stairs because my huge fear was her falling if she lost her balance.
She's been my constant and best friend through multiple moves across the country for grad school and for work. I've had her my entire adult life. She would sleep curled up in my armpit, or under the tent my knees make with the blanket, or wrapped around my head on the pillow (and usually shoving my head mostly off the pillow.) I would just wrap my arm around her and hug her against my cheek and fall asleep. She loved to sleep and eat, we would watch Netflix together for hours.
She followed me everywhere - I never shut a door because she'd get upset. She'd follow me to the bathroom and often decide to do her business at the same time, which was a combination of cute and a bit gross.
She has such an engaging and unique personality. Ive had other cats before but she really stuck out as special and quirky and funny. She's the closest I've ever felt to any cat I've ever had and was always entertaining and sociable and just pushy enough to get what she wanted but in a cute way (5am 'feed me' face pats of increasing pressure were not uncommon).
I feel like I've lost my best and longest friend of 15 years and I'm just crushed. She was diagnosed with large-cell lymphoma and the absolute best case scenario was another 6-9 months of quality life with chemo. So we tried - we went to the local veterinary board licensed oncologist, a full oncology center, we followed the first chemo protocol and it seemed to work. She got better for 2 weeks despite the large tumor in her stomach and smaller ones in her lymphnodes and liver. She perked around and acted normal and happy, and I have never felt greater joy or hope that maybe I would get a few more great months with her.
But it was not to be... she took a turn for the worst again just two weeks later. Very nauseated, refusing to eat anything but a few licks of gravy at best. When I saw her tripping and sliding trying to get into the litterbox because she couldn't life her back feet high enough I figured maybe it was time. Then the next morning her breathing sounded louder, the vet had mentioned pleural effusion around her heart and lungs, and I would never want her to suffocate. I called the vet and we scheduled euthanasia for earlier this afternoon.
I just got home a few hours ago. I live alone and she was my only cat. The apartment is so quiet, but sometimes if something shifts I perk up thinking I hear her in the other room before immediately realizing that's impossible. And because of how crappy I feel my first reflex would be to find and hug her... so I keep thinking to do that, but no, she's not there.
Im sleeping on the floor next to her heated bed she loved because it smells like her. I just miss her so much and we fought the cancer as hard as we could for months but sometimes there is nothing you can do...
I would have given almost anything for another 3-4 years with her. I miss you Squeaky, and hope you always knew how loved and important you were.
We found out over the next few months that Squeaky had mild cerebellar hypoplasia (wobbly kitty syndrome) . She would high-step with her back legs and had the intention tremor in her head when she looked at things or ate food. She learned to walk a lot more slowly than the other kittens but was always very bright-eyed and interested and got right back up when she rolled over. And she could fully take care of herself though I would never rent a place with stairs because my huge fear was her falling if she lost her balance.
She's been my constant and best friend through multiple moves across the country for grad school and for work. I've had her my entire adult life. She would sleep curled up in my armpit, or under the tent my knees make with the blanket, or wrapped around my head on the pillow (and usually shoving my head mostly off the pillow.) I would just wrap my arm around her and hug her against my cheek and fall asleep. She loved to sleep and eat, we would watch Netflix together for hours.
She followed me everywhere - I never shut a door because she'd get upset. She'd follow me to the bathroom and often decide to do her business at the same time, which was a combination of cute and a bit gross.
She has such an engaging and unique personality. Ive had other cats before but she really stuck out as special and quirky and funny. She's the closest I've ever felt to any cat I've ever had and was always entertaining and sociable and just pushy enough to get what she wanted but in a cute way (5am 'feed me' face pats of increasing pressure were not uncommon).
I feel like I've lost my best and longest friend of 15 years and I'm just crushed. She was diagnosed with large-cell lymphoma and the absolute best case scenario was another 6-9 months of quality life with chemo. So we tried - we went to the local veterinary board licensed oncologist, a full oncology center, we followed the first chemo protocol and it seemed to work. She got better for 2 weeks despite the large tumor in her stomach and smaller ones in her lymphnodes and liver. She perked around and acted normal and happy, and I have never felt greater joy or hope that maybe I would get a few more great months with her.
But it was not to be... she took a turn for the worst again just two weeks later. Very nauseated, refusing to eat anything but a few licks of gravy at best. When I saw her tripping and sliding trying to get into the litterbox because she couldn't life her back feet high enough I figured maybe it was time. Then the next morning her breathing sounded louder, the vet had mentioned pleural effusion around her heart and lungs, and I would never want her to suffocate. I called the vet and we scheduled euthanasia for earlier this afternoon.
I just got home a few hours ago. I live alone and she was my only cat. The apartment is so quiet, but sometimes if something shifts I perk up thinking I hear her in the other room before immediately realizing that's impossible. And because of how crappy I feel my first reflex would be to find and hug her... so I keep thinking to do that, but no, she's not there.
Im sleeping on the floor next to her heated bed she loved because it smells like her. I just miss her so much and we fought the cancer as hard as we could for months but sometimes there is nothing you can do...
I would have given almost anything for another 3-4 years with her. I miss you Squeaky, and hope you always knew how loved and important you were.