Albert was a kitten I rescued from a feral colony. If he had lived he would have turned 11 this year, but I lost Albert a few days ago.
Albert and his sister Sophie turned up at my house because I was feeding all the strays in the neighbourhood. I had TNR'd most of the colony, but the female cats I hadn't managed to trap yet all had a final litter of kittens, so there were 4 litters in total that spring. Three of the mother cats came every day to be fed so it was pretty easy to coax their kittens inside and start socializing them. Albert and Sophie's mother came from a farm a few streets away. She wasn't a daily visitor so it took a little longer for her kittens to find their way over to me.
Sophie was pretty friendly from the start. I could have easily rehomed her, but Albert was more skittish. I didn't want to split them up, so I kept them both and Sophie helped me persuade Albert to come indoors.
At about the same time I got one of the big, feral toms neutered and brought him indoors too. Like most older neutered males, Gin Kun was very gentle with the kittens. It wasn't until I saw Gin and Albert sleeping together that I realized Gin must be his father. They had the same face.
I think Albert enjoyed living with his father, sister and all of our other cats. He had a big outdoor enclosure surrounded by woods and was free to come in and out of the house as he pleased. He was always pretty healthy, but about 18 months ago I noticed that he was starting to lose weight. We had him treated for a gum infection, but even though he got his appetite back he kept getting thinner. Then we had some blood tests done and found out that Albert was FIV+ and also that he was starting to suffer from kidney failure.
We changed his diet and got him on medication. This time last year I thought we might lose him because he stopped eating, but a few days of syringe feeding brought him back. I knew it wasn't a cure, but I'm glad he managed to enjoy his time with us for a little longer.
He had a good summer, sun bathing on his favourite log and hanging out with his sister.
He had a few rough days, but I'd always manage to nurse him back to health and encourage him to eat again. He was still as handsome as ever.
About a week ago he stopped eating on his own. Usually a few days of syringe feeding would perk him back up, but this time it was different. He wouldn't swallow, he didn't even want water, the little I did manage to force down him he threw back up. We took him to the vet on the 16th. They told us he was in end stage kidney failure and there was nothing else we could do. They gave him fluids through a drip and injections of anti-nausea meds, but warned us he probably only had a few more weeks at the most.
Sadly, he didn't even have that. Albert passed away later that night.
Albert, sweet boy, please forgive me. You suffered horribly in the end and I always promised you I would spare you that. I let you down. I should have asked the vet to help you pass that morning and not put you through more injections and drips. I didn't realise how bad things were. I didn't realise how little time was left.
I know you had a good life and I'm trying to focus on all the happy memories I have of you. It's just that right now all I can think of is the way you died. It's over shadowing everything else and I'm struggling to move past that.
Forgive me Albert, you deserved so much better than I gave you.
Albert and his sister Sophie turned up at my house because I was feeding all the strays in the neighbourhood. I had TNR'd most of the colony, but the female cats I hadn't managed to trap yet all had a final litter of kittens, so there were 4 litters in total that spring. Three of the mother cats came every day to be fed so it was pretty easy to coax their kittens inside and start socializing them. Albert and Sophie's mother came from a farm a few streets away. She wasn't a daily visitor so it took a little longer for her kittens to find their way over to me.
Sophie was pretty friendly from the start. I could have easily rehomed her, but Albert was more skittish. I didn't want to split them up, so I kept them both and Sophie helped me persuade Albert to come indoors.
At about the same time I got one of the big, feral toms neutered and brought him indoors too. Like most older neutered males, Gin Kun was very gentle with the kittens. It wasn't until I saw Gin and Albert sleeping together that I realized Gin must be his father. They had the same face.
I think Albert enjoyed living with his father, sister and all of our other cats. He had a big outdoor enclosure surrounded by woods and was free to come in and out of the house as he pleased. He was always pretty healthy, but about 18 months ago I noticed that he was starting to lose weight. We had him treated for a gum infection, but even though he got his appetite back he kept getting thinner. Then we had some blood tests done and found out that Albert was FIV+ and also that he was starting to suffer from kidney failure.
We changed his diet and got him on medication. This time last year I thought we might lose him because he stopped eating, but a few days of syringe feeding brought him back. I knew it wasn't a cure, but I'm glad he managed to enjoy his time with us for a little longer.
He had a good summer, sun bathing on his favourite log and hanging out with his sister.
He had a few rough days, but I'd always manage to nurse him back to health and encourage him to eat again. He was still as handsome as ever.
About a week ago he stopped eating on his own. Usually a few days of syringe feeding would perk him back up, but this time it was different. He wouldn't swallow, he didn't even want water, the little I did manage to force down him he threw back up. We took him to the vet on the 16th. They told us he was in end stage kidney failure and there was nothing else we could do. They gave him fluids through a drip and injections of anti-nausea meds, but warned us he probably only had a few more weeks at the most.
Sadly, he didn't even have that. Albert passed away later that night.
Albert, sweet boy, please forgive me. You suffered horribly in the end and I always promised you I would spare you that. I let you down. I should have asked the vet to help you pass that morning and not put you through more injections and drips. I didn't realise how bad things were. I didn't realise how little time was left.
I know you had a good life and I'm trying to focus on all the happy memories I have of you. It's just that right now all I can think of is the way you died. It's over shadowing everything else and I'm struggling to move past that.
Forgive me Albert, you deserved so much better than I gave you.
.
.
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Oh so sorry to hear. Don't beat yourself up, if you had know how short his time was you would have helped him pass. Sometimes the greatest love we can show them is freedom from pain and suffering. Which you would have done had you known. Albert understands and is watching over you all. He will meet you someday at the Rainbow Bridge.
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