So long old friend.

In what seems like a whirlwind of information, shock, confusion and hope that lasted only a few days, I've lost a very sweet, furry friend. As of four o'clock today, my cat Ty has gone to what I can only hope is a magnificent kitty heaven.

Many years ago, I worked with a girl that had a cat she couldn't keep because one of her other cats kept attacking him. She had a habit of rescuing animals and then realizing she couldn't possibly keep them all. She was very upset because this cat was so sweet and docile that her other cat found him an easy target and asked me if I'd be interested in adding another cat to my line up. His name was Titanic as he weighed almost 25 pounds; when he was found, animal control was getting calls of a 'panther' lurking in the neighborhood. When I met him, I thought he was one of the most beautiful cats I'd ever seen: huge green eyes and a soft black coat with a layer of white hidden underneath only detectable when you pushed his fur the opposite direction. Needless to say, he found a new home.

Not so long after I took him, my mother fell in love with him and wanted him to live with her. He had been with her almost exclusively but we considered him 'our' cat. Ty (as we shortened his name) was a very well adjusted cat and like a big smooshy stuffed animal. Although we had reduced his weight over the years to 15#, he still was like a tall feline linebacker and had a craving for carbs of any sort. If you left them out... he found them and helped himself. If you called him, he'd come running and literally crash into your shin head first, again, kind of like a linebacker. If he liked you, he'd try his hardest to get to your hair and groom you... endlessly. He was big, sweet, lovable and not overly bright.

Late last week, he was having trouble breathing. When he got to the vet's, they tapped 150 mls of fluid from his lungs. Testing was inconclusive but they had two ideas: rapid onset heart failure or Feline Infectious Peritonitis. They assumed it was the former as he had been strictly indoors for many years and always got a clean bill of health at his check ups. He was put on meds and appeared to be doing alright. I went home this weekend and got to spend a little bit of time with him.

This morning, he had more difficulty breathing and even had fluid dripping from his nose. After being rushed to the vet, they said his lungs had filled yet again, maybe even more than the first time. This was only a matter of three days and he was on meds to prevent it. They now think the culprit was in fact FIP and that it had remained dormant all this time. Unfortunately, this means exposure for the other cats if they are right with the diagnosis.

There is no way to cure it. He would have been in the same situation in a matter of days again and would have had to deal with the discomfort as well. The vet said his lungs were literally floating. any more fluid and he would have either drowned or his heart would have given out. In light of that, my mother and I talked and decided it would be kinder to have him put to sleep. I don't take euthanasia lightly (having been a vet tech for four years gives you a different perspective) and saw it as the last kind thing that either of us could do for him.

I sat crouched crying in the IV Room at work on my cell phone while we made the decision. My mother was with him and that was the best I could ask for. So today I said goodbye to a very sweet friend that will not be forgotten. Apparently it was his time, yet the selfish part of me wishes that simply wasn't so. At least not so soon.