This morning I was saddened to see an email from informing me that Mr. Cat, a stray that one of our shoppers took in, passed away. Jacki wrote to me about him a while back and I think you'll enjoy her story:
Mr. Cat, so he was named because I didn't want to get attached to him, was a street cat. He ran with a gang of eight other cats that had been abandoned in our neighborhood. We have a lot of rental property around our street and when people move they have a tendency to leave the cats behind. We would come home from work and find Mr. Cat sleeping on our front porch, the minute he would see us he would take off. This went on for about a month. One day when we were coming in he just lifted his head up and didn't move. I told him don't leave on our account because we are just stopping to get something and then we'll be gone. He looked at us and then went back to sleep.
I questioned the kids in the neighborhood about Mr. Cat and they all said that he was nobody's cat, but he sure ate good on trash day. So that night when we came home, Mr. Cat was sleeping on the porch, I asked him if he was hungry and would like something to eat. He sat up and looked at me like of course I would. The only thing that I had that was suitable was some left over shrimp from the restaurant that we ate at the night before. I never saw five pieces of shrimp eaten so fast. I sat down on the step while he was eating and when he finished he came over and sat down next to me. I explained to him that I knew he didn't have a home, and with winter coming did he have any plans, maybe a cousin or brother he could bunk in with, because if he didn't it was alright with me if he'd like to stay but he would need the big guy's permission: Big Guy being my husband. We sat for a while and when I got up to go in the house he scooted in between my legs and ran into the house, where he sat down right in front of my husband and just sat there looking at him. My husband asked him what he was doing in the house and he meowed at him. I told my husband he's asking permission to come and live with us. My husband said he had conditions and if they were agreed to then he could stay. Mr. Cat blinked, I guess that was okay.
The first thing we did was take him to our vet to be checked out. This man is no longer our vet because after he checked Mr. Cat out he wanted me to sign papers that he could put the cat down. Mr. Cat was testing positive for Feline Aids and Feline Leukemia. I wanted to know how old Mr. Cat was and he said almost two. My next question was, is the cat sick now? The vet was very evasive and continued to encourage me to have the cat put down. I told him NO, if the cat is not ill I see no reason for it. The vet then yelled at me that I better not bring the cat to his office again, and that I was taking the cat home against his advice. I picked up Mr. Cat and looked at the vet and said, "Just hope and pray that when you get old and sick no one insists on you being put down."
That was five years ago. It's five years of love, laughter and silly antics that I would have never enjoyed if I had listened to a very nasty vet.
I know that Mr. Cat's life might be cut short but until that time he will have the happiest and best life has to offer to him.
Each year thousands of cats develop Feline Leukemia. If you have a pussycat, please be sure to have it immunized so it will live a long and healthy life.
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