last week my bff found a stray cat, and my upstairs neighbours took her in. she was all skin and bones, but seemed like she’d just been neglected, and looked so much like gamin (my ex’s cat, who lived with me after we broke up and then moved to the neighbours when i went to oz, where he continues to live, very very very happily) that trying to help her wasn’t much of a choice. they even named her: sybil, after the character from fawlty towers.
typical facial expressions from sybil at left, and gamin at right
when she began refusing liquids as well as solids, they tried force-feeding her with syringes of water and milk, but her condition continued to deteriorate. i took care of her on friday afternoon for a couple hours, and it just about broke my heart because it was exactly like when my old cat allan died: trying to convince this small creature to take the things it needs to survive when it really doesn’t want to. still, even at that point, i saw hope in the way that she fought my ministrations, weak as it was.
sum and capt. pestou took her to the vet right after that, and came home empty-handed: it turned out that she had a large tumour in her abdomen, and was in a lot of pain. how very sad. at the very least, we can all feel good about having provided warmth and care during her last days, even if we were misguided in our attempts to keep her going. the vet who saw her is an amazing and caring individual, and assured my friends that she would have a humane euthanasia, which is better than her dying from cold or dehydration on the streets.
it makes me appreciate how healthy the rest of us are, humans and pets alike. sure, we’ve all been suffering from colds and upset stomachs and what-not, but for the most part we’re chugging along just fine. knock wood.
rest in peace, little one.