Yesterday my Bear stopped eating. He started breathing very heavily and struggling to do anything. His lungs had filled with fluid over night. Our options were to either attempt to drain the fluid (his sister passed during this procedure) and have maybe 2 more days with him - all the while he would likely suffer and struggle to breathe as his lungs refilled. Or do what we had been both preparing for and dreading most - let him go home to his sister. We chose the latter. I couldnt bare to see him suffer any more the way he was yesterday. This is our last photo before going into the office yesterday. He was honestly the sweetest, most loving cat Ive ever known. We named him and his sister Kovu and Kiara (Lion King 2 fans,) but somewhere along the way I started calling him my little bear, and it stuck. They were our first experience with FeLV. I cried the whole day I found out. They were barely a month old. We had gone to the shelter in search of a puppy...and came home with two kittens instead. Kiara was a firecracker and quickly became a daddys girl, but my little bear was very small and sickly. He brought out the mama in me, and it never left. As he got older and healthier, we couldnt manage to keep him inside. He and alpha male Sebastian would roam the neighborhood all day, right beside each other. Sebastian taught him to hunt and climb trees. They were best friends. And so little bear became the vicious, ferocious bear he wanted to be (despite having the teensy tiniest little meow.) The house feels empty now. His favorite spot on top of the couch is now empty. Theres a bear-shaped hole in my heart. Ive cried so much these last few weeks that it almost seems a relief that hes finally gone - back with his sister, running the fields of the rainbow bridge. Happy and strong. My sweet twins. I love them both from the deepest part of me. Thank you for your support.
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 16:27:06 +0000
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