Good bye my friend, we will miss you

I’m a cat person. I like their independence, but also their ability to manipulate their owners to serving their every wish.

We’ve had Mochi for exactly a year now, adopting her from the vet school in Davis, CA. We recently started looking for a companion for Mochi while we’re at work. On a whim, my wife and I went out for a quick lunch over in Ballard in Seattle. We stopped by unplanned at the PAWS adoption center and fell in love with Pepe. He was a domestic short hair with a white stripe down his back, making him look like a skunk. He had a kink in the middle of his tail and a meow like a raptor. Of the 15 or so kittens in the room, he was the first to run out and climb up our leg. It was love at first site for my wife. He wasn’t the prettiest kitten, but definitely had quite the personality.

It took a solid week before Mochi would accept him. My wife had long nights while I was traveling at work keeping the two separated and having Pepe scream all night. After a week, they finally were able to live together.

About a week ago, he started having diarrhea. He had a chest cold when we brought him home. A visit to the vets office revealed no problems. We held off on the vaccine shots for a week until he got better. Yesterday, after coming home from work, I found him laying on the couch exhausted. His body was limp and he was completely lethargic. I had work to do but instead held him on my chest while I watched TV. Holding him seemed to comfort him as he laid there with no reaction to my petting. Each time I moved him, his head dangled freely. I called the vet trying to schedule an appointment but they weren’t able to see him until the next morning.

He wouldn’t eat and wouldn’t drink. At this point, I started to worry. All I could do was sit there and be there with him. An hour later, he started to sneeze  a lot. I put him on a cloth napkin to absorb the discharge. Periodically, he would stiffen up and start wailing his paws in the air.

Another hour went by and he started to have a discharge out of his mouth. I wiped him and held him the whole time. At this point, I started looking for an emergency clinic nearby. The closest one was about 20 minutes away in rush hour traffic.

He started to breath through his mouth, struggling with each breath, his mouth opening wide. He reminded me of a raptor, the feature that we fell in love.

At about 6:35 PM, his breathing slowed. His paws were cold. I knew there was nothing I could do. The inevitable was to happen and I knew that attempting to rush him to the hospital would result in him dying at the table. I loved him too much to have him die scared in the car ride and if he made it, in the hands of a stranger.

At 6:40 PM, his eyes stopped reacting to my petting and he urinated over the blanket. His body went limp, his body wasted away. He went from a kitten with a cold to skin and bones over two days.

I sat there in shock. I called his name, petting his head. He didn’t react to my hand movements over his eyes. They had completely dilated. I touched his eye and it stayed open with no movement.

He spent his last few minutes curled up in my hands. My friend had passed.

Tukie came home within minutes, smiling as she saw me hold him in the window. I told her that he had died. She didn’t believe me. We had joked the last couple days that he looks dead at times.

We held each other, looking at his limp body. We had lost our love.

I miss you Pepe.