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Anonymous
My cat was the same, didn't eat/drink, couldn't really walk. One day she was fine, the next day she was laying around not moving, not eating or drinking, and she was dragging her back legs. Her name was Samantha, she was 19 years old and she, too, was my bestfriend.
The worst part was we sent her to the vet expecting to get her back at least, and let her die with us here at home, but they refused to give her back to us in her condition. They called saying her blood test was great and she seems to be in excellent condition, they called again saying they can't get a cavity check because she's biting everyone and struggling to get away to the point her gums turned blue and they had to put her on oxygen, they called again saying she's riddled with arthritis, her lungs and sacs are filled with fluid, she has kidney failure, she has a heart murmur and her thyroid was overgrown and blocking her esophagus.
I left her that day expecting to come back and get her, but the last time I saw her she was on a steel table going crazy and when I even tried to touch her she'd hiss at me and try to bite me as if I were a stranger.
So they put her down that night, around 12AM on a Thursday. It was the first time I've felt real depression in my entire life. I'll still never get used to coming home and thinking she'll be there waiting. When I walk in the back, I still expect to see her laying there on the bed. They sent us her ashes. A month ago I would've never expected to be carrying the love of my life out of a vet in a small box. The week after her death, the vet sent a sorry card in the mail. Inside the card was a small piece of paper that had Samantha's paw printed on it. When my dad saw it it took his breath away. I have 2 kittens now, one that is actually identical to her, and another which looks like her, but has gray instead of black. They're Calicos.
At least this is a place that we can get away from our sick selves, and discuss the love for our past friends.
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