- Mar 8, 2005
- 8,805
- 65
- 91
I want you guys to meet Immie. I'm going to get a website for her and post her pictures. I only knew her 1 month but it was long enough to steal my heart. She was the greatest cat I ever knew.
Immie came to me on thanksgiving day. I was sitting outside and she strolled up and rub against my leg. A large orange maine my excellent compatriot cat. She let me pick her up, rub her belly, look at her teeth, and play with her paws. She purred the entire time.
She was in rough shape. Her owners had obviously abandoned her and she had no front claws. She was about 8 or 9 pounds, and starving to death. I fed her some turkey, and played with her on the porch. Eventually, I talked my mother in law into holding her inside for awhile while I tried to get her a good home.
I called every no kill shelter in the book, NOBODY would help me. I'm not the kind of guy that gets all emotional, but for some reason this cat called out to me, it needed my help. I went everywhere, looking for anyone who would help me find this cat a good home. After one week I finally begged my mother to take her. But I had to take her to the vet and make sure she did not have any illnesses that my mother's cat could catch.
I would point out we could not take her because we already have 3 cats. It would be too crowded here with a 4th. I took her to the cheapest vet I could find because we were hurting for cash. He did a blood test, and fecal test, looked her over, said no flee's, spayed female cat, no parasites, and no aids/leukemia.
We took her to my mom's. Everything was great, she got along great with my mom's cat, ate well, no problems. Three days later the phone rang. My mom was concerned, she told me the cat was drinking a lot of water and using the bathroom a lot, and that she had gone to the bathroom on the floor in front of the litter box. At first I dismissed this, but after doing some reading, I got worried. I drove out the next night, picked up the cat, and took her to my vet. My vet was a lot more costly then the other vet. The suspected a infection in the bladder/kidneys, and did a test on her urine and blood. The tests were a few hundred bucks, but I decided I was going to keep this cat. She needed me and I was going to help her get well and live with me and my wife.
The results came back the next day, it wasn't good, Immie's kidneys were failing. We had to get her in right away and decide how to proceed. They explained that it could be one of two things.
1) Accute kidney failure - This would be caused by an infection, or something and could be curable.
2) Chronic kidney failure - This is incurable and fatal.
The tests would put us even deeper into the hole. I could not bring myself to kill an animal that could be fixed by a quck round of antibiotics. So I authorized the tests. They did more blood work, flushed the kidneys with a process that helps restore kidney function. A ultrasound and X-rays.
They found 2 things. First, Immie was a boy. Second, my Immie had incurable cancer. HE had only 30% of his kidney function left. It was suspected he had this for years, and this was near the end. However, I was told that the kidney process they did + a daily pill could cause the cancer to go into remission, and he could live for months to years happy, and pain free.
We took him home. He was the happiest cat I've ever seen, he ate all his food, had no accidents with his bladder. Played, jumped in windows, chairs, ran around. Layed on my lap and purred. He was the happiest I had ever seen him. My wife and I went to bed last night the happiest we had been in a few days. Hoping this medicine would give us time to get to know our new friend.
I awoke this morning, fed the Immie, played with him for a short while, told him he was a good kitty and went to work. My wife did the same thing around noon. All was well, he was playing, looking out the window, and happy as can be. Our plans were to give him his meds around 8pm.
I left work at 4:30pm. I was almost home when the phone rang. My wife was crying, he had vomited all over, was lethargic, drooling, and hiding. The vet wanted to see him ASAP. I rushed home, took him to the vet, I could tell in his eyes it was too late. He purred, let me hold him, and shivered. The vet said it was his time, we had done all we could do.
They gave him a shot to relax him. He slept in my arms purring. Eventually it was time, they came in and painlessly took away his life. I held him in my arms. I cried. I have not cried in almost 20 years. I bawled like a little baby.
In the last few weeks this kitty had stole my heart, my wife's heart, my mother's heart, and everyone else that he met. He was the friendliest cat I had ever known. He loved everyone, he was full of life, and everyone turned his back on him. It is probable that his owners kicked him out because he was peeing on the floors, because he was sick. Had the cancer been caught then, he might of lives years of happy healthy life. But instead he was forced to starve, suffer, and live on the cold streets, though harsh winters (the people in the area said he had been on his own for years) with no food. It's obvious from his scar's that he had to defend himself without claws.
Nobody would help him, he depended on me to save him. I did all I could I spent 1300.00 of money I do not have. There was nothing I could do. I love him with all my heart. I love him so much I had to take away his life so he could have dignity and peace without pain and suffering.
I stayed for an hour after he passed. I wanted to make sure he was really gone. I wanted to make sure he died knowing that someone loved him.
My time with him was cut short. I do not know why he was brought into my life with such little time to share. The vet took a paw print on clay and gave it to me to keep. They are going to cremate him and give me his ashes.
I have some video of him. I am going to get it and put it up on the web so I can see him full of life and happiness.
I told you this so I can get it all out, and so I can say this.
If you choose to get a pet, you are making a life time commitment. Throwing a pet to the side because it is ill, or not taking it to the vet is a death sentence to your pet. If you do this you are trash, you are not deserving the title of human being and I hate you.
If you do not commit yourself fully to the life long commitment that a pet is, feeding him, loving him, playing with him, and eventually treating him for illness and keeping him pain free, PLEASE do not get a pet. To get a pet would be a great injustice.
I'm the saddest I have ever been. My only solace has been burying myself in my training. I miss his purr, I miss his smell, I miss the soft fur, I miss the happy face and run. I miss it all.
I have to tell myself I did all I could, I did the best I could and I actually went beyond my means. I have no idea how I'm going to pay for these bills. But I don't care. I would of given anything for just one more month with him. I begged them to tell me there was something else I could do.
But this is part of being a good pet owner. There comes a time when you must choose beyond your own desires, and do what is best for you pet, letting them die a painless dignified death, surrounded with those who love them.
I love you Immie, I only wish I could tell you that a million billion times more.
For now, here are some pictures of him, when he was happy.
http://don.magee.googlepages.com/immiepics
Immie came to me on thanksgiving day. I was sitting outside and she strolled up and rub against my leg. A large orange maine my excellent compatriot cat. She let me pick her up, rub her belly, look at her teeth, and play with her paws. She purred the entire time.
She was in rough shape. Her owners had obviously abandoned her and she had no front claws. She was about 8 or 9 pounds, and starving to death. I fed her some turkey, and played with her on the porch. Eventually, I talked my mother in law into holding her inside for awhile while I tried to get her a good home.
I called every no kill shelter in the book, NOBODY would help me. I'm not the kind of guy that gets all emotional, but for some reason this cat called out to me, it needed my help. I went everywhere, looking for anyone who would help me find this cat a good home. After one week I finally begged my mother to take her. But I had to take her to the vet and make sure she did not have any illnesses that my mother's cat could catch.
I would point out we could not take her because we already have 3 cats. It would be too crowded here with a 4th. I took her to the cheapest vet I could find because we were hurting for cash. He did a blood test, and fecal test, looked her over, said no flee's, spayed female cat, no parasites, and no aids/leukemia.
We took her to my mom's. Everything was great, she got along great with my mom's cat, ate well, no problems. Three days later the phone rang. My mom was concerned, she told me the cat was drinking a lot of water and using the bathroom a lot, and that she had gone to the bathroom on the floor in front of the litter box. At first I dismissed this, but after doing some reading, I got worried. I drove out the next night, picked up the cat, and took her to my vet. My vet was a lot more costly then the other vet. The suspected a infection in the bladder/kidneys, and did a test on her urine and blood. The tests were a few hundred bucks, but I decided I was going to keep this cat. She needed me and I was going to help her get well and live with me and my wife.
The results came back the next day, it wasn't good, Immie's kidneys were failing. We had to get her in right away and decide how to proceed. They explained that it could be one of two things.
1) Accute kidney failure - This would be caused by an infection, or something and could be curable.
2) Chronic kidney failure - This is incurable and fatal.
The tests would put us even deeper into the hole. I could not bring myself to kill an animal that could be fixed by a quck round of antibiotics. So I authorized the tests. They did more blood work, flushed the kidneys with a process that helps restore kidney function. A ultrasound and X-rays.
They found 2 things. First, Immie was a boy. Second, my Immie had incurable cancer. HE had only 30% of his kidney function left. It was suspected he had this for years, and this was near the end. However, I was told that the kidney process they did + a daily pill could cause the cancer to go into remission, and he could live for months to years happy, and pain free.
We took him home. He was the happiest cat I've ever seen, he ate all his food, had no accidents with his bladder. Played, jumped in windows, chairs, ran around. Layed on my lap and purred. He was the happiest I had ever seen him. My wife and I went to bed last night the happiest we had been in a few days. Hoping this medicine would give us time to get to know our new friend.
I awoke this morning, fed the Immie, played with him for a short while, told him he was a good kitty and went to work. My wife did the same thing around noon. All was well, he was playing, looking out the window, and happy as can be. Our plans were to give him his meds around 8pm.
I left work at 4:30pm. I was almost home when the phone rang. My wife was crying, he had vomited all over, was lethargic, drooling, and hiding. The vet wanted to see him ASAP. I rushed home, took him to the vet, I could tell in his eyes it was too late. He purred, let me hold him, and shivered. The vet said it was his time, we had done all we could do.
They gave him a shot to relax him. He slept in my arms purring. Eventually it was time, they came in and painlessly took away his life. I held him in my arms. I cried. I have not cried in almost 20 years. I bawled like a little baby.
In the last few weeks this kitty had stole my heart, my wife's heart, my mother's heart, and everyone else that he met. He was the friendliest cat I had ever known. He loved everyone, he was full of life, and everyone turned his back on him. It is probable that his owners kicked him out because he was peeing on the floors, because he was sick. Had the cancer been caught then, he might of lives years of happy healthy life. But instead he was forced to starve, suffer, and live on the cold streets, though harsh winters (the people in the area said he had been on his own for years) with no food. It's obvious from his scar's that he had to defend himself without claws.
Nobody would help him, he depended on me to save him. I did all I could I spent 1300.00 of money I do not have. There was nothing I could do. I love him with all my heart. I love him so much I had to take away his life so he could have dignity and peace without pain and suffering.
I stayed for an hour after he passed. I wanted to make sure he was really gone. I wanted to make sure he died knowing that someone loved him.
My time with him was cut short. I do not know why he was brought into my life with such little time to share. The vet took a paw print on clay and gave it to me to keep. They are going to cremate him and give me his ashes.
I have some video of him. I am going to get it and put it up on the web so I can see him full of life and happiness.
I told you this so I can get it all out, and so I can say this.
If you choose to get a pet, you are making a life time commitment. Throwing a pet to the side because it is ill, or not taking it to the vet is a death sentence to your pet. If you do this you are trash, you are not deserving the title of human being and I hate you.
If you do not commit yourself fully to the life long commitment that a pet is, feeding him, loving him, playing with him, and eventually treating him for illness and keeping him pain free, PLEASE do not get a pet. To get a pet would be a great injustice.
I'm the saddest I have ever been. My only solace has been burying myself in my training. I miss his purr, I miss his smell, I miss the soft fur, I miss the happy face and run. I miss it all.
I have to tell myself I did all I could, I did the best I could and I actually went beyond my means. I have no idea how I'm going to pay for these bills. But I don't care. I would of given anything for just one more month with him. I begged them to tell me there was something else I could do.
But this is part of being a good pet owner. There comes a time when you must choose beyond your own desires, and do what is best for you pet, letting them die a painless dignified death, surrounded with those who love them.
I love you Immie, I only wish I could tell you that a million billion times more.
For now, here are some pictures of him, when he was happy.
http://don.magee.googlepages.com/immiepics
Facebook
Twitter