My Baboo and I have been inseparable since he was six weeks old.
Baboo has always been the kitty that changed people’s minds about cats. Though he’s been a fierce protector, running to the door and growling when someone knocked, he never met a stranger once they stepped inside. He loved people, and people loved him. He loved other cats, and they loved him.
Over the years, he’s been dubbed “Tub Boy” (from his habit of jumping in the bathtub and demanding we turn on the tap for him), “Flabboo” (when he got chubby), “Vacoom Boy” (he’s the only cat I’ve ever known that actually likes to be vacuumed) and “Lap Boy” (self-explanatory).
He’s always been a happy, healthy cat, until several years ago. He developed diabetes, which we got under control with a special diet. He also started to have ear problems, which we fixed with several courses of meds, but in the process, he was found to have a tumor in his inner ear, and eventually became deaf.
And now he is having breathing problems - I suspect it’s due to cancer, as he has a bulge on his left side. He also has numerous skin tumors, has trouble with balance and walking (possibly due to his ear condition), and has little stamina. His “lap time” has gone from over an hour to maybe 5 or 10 minutes - I believe he just isn’t comfortable, as he spends most of the day under our bed, stretched out on his right side. He complains when I pick him up, no matter how carefully I try to do so, which indicates that it’s painful for him. And sometimes he wakes me up in the night, crying softly. He often seems confused, like a very old man.
Yet he still eats, and uses his litter box, though I had to switch him back to clay litter as he tends to step in his pee puddles and no longer cleans his feet. In fact, he does no grooming whatsoever. He still manages to climb the pet stairs to our bed, and likes to snuggle for a few minutes before returning to his normal spot for the night.
All of the signs are there. My beloved kitty is sick. He’s probably in pain. And the only glimmer of joy I see in his eyes is when I bring him the special puree of Fancy Feast beef that I make for him every day, or during the first few minutes in my lap when I cuddle him, and call him my Baby Baboo.
He has been my constant companion for 18 years. We’ve been through a lot together, and he has always been loyal, faithful and loving. He is my best friend. I know in my mind that the best way to reward him is to give him a peaceful end to his suffering, but my heart doesn’t want to let him go. I don’t want to say goodbye.
Baboo has always been the kitty that changed people’s minds about cats. Though he’s been a fierce protector, running to the door and growling when someone knocked, he never met a stranger once they stepped inside. He loved people, and people loved him. He loved other cats, and they loved him.
Over the years, he’s been dubbed “Tub Boy” (from his habit of jumping in the bathtub and demanding we turn on the tap for him), “Flabboo” (when he got chubby), “Vacoom Boy” (he’s the only cat I’ve ever known that actually likes to be vacuumed) and “Lap Boy” (self-explanatory).
He’s always been a happy, healthy cat, until several years ago. He developed diabetes, which we got under control with a special diet. He also started to have ear problems, which we fixed with several courses of meds, but in the process, he was found to have a tumor in his inner ear, and eventually became deaf.
And now he is having breathing problems - I suspect it’s due to cancer, as he has a bulge on his left side. He also has numerous skin tumors, has trouble with balance and walking (possibly due to his ear condition), and has little stamina. His “lap time” has gone from over an hour to maybe 5 or 10 minutes - I believe he just isn’t comfortable, as he spends most of the day under our bed, stretched out on his right side. He complains when I pick him up, no matter how carefully I try to do so, which indicates that it’s painful for him. And sometimes he wakes me up in the night, crying softly. He often seems confused, like a very old man.
Yet he still eats, and uses his litter box, though I had to switch him back to clay litter as he tends to step in his pee puddles and no longer cleans his feet. In fact, he does no grooming whatsoever. He still manages to climb the pet stairs to our bed, and likes to snuggle for a few minutes before returning to his normal spot for the night.
All of the signs are there. My beloved kitty is sick. He’s probably in pain. And the only glimmer of joy I see in his eyes is when I bring him the special puree of Fancy Feast beef that I make for him every day, or during the first few minutes in my lap when I cuddle him, and call him my Baby Baboo.
He has been my constant companion for 18 years. We’ve been through a lot together, and he has always been loyal, faithful and loving. He is my best friend. I know in my mind that the best way to reward him is to give him a peaceful end to his suffering, but my heart doesn’t want to let him go. I don’t want to say goodbye.
He is a gorgeous little kitty!
