Farewell Chester

I didn't sleep well last night, so I amused myself by planning what I would write about in my blog today.  This is not the blog I planned to write.  Unfortunately I wasn't the only member of the family to have a bad night because we woke up to find that Chester had bled in several places on our sheets and duvet cover.  I made an appointment to take him to the vet this morning, but was afraid that we were not going to have a happy ending.

  And I was right, the vet and I agreed that there was no further choice but to put Chester to sleep.  My poor orange kitty had reached the end of any treatment that could be given, and his condition had gone downhill again.

We adopted Chester from the OSPCA in the fall.  It was love at first sight.  He was an orange tabby with an alert, tolerant look on his face.  He loved to sit high up in the outdoor cage, and watch the antics of the other cats and check out the visitors coming in.  He had been picked up as a stray, but obviously had been in a loving home as he was already neutered and declawed.  He loved to wander around our backyard on a leash, which is very unusual for cats, so obviously he had been walked before.   He didn't recognize the name "Chester" but came to our call regardless.  I've always wondered what his previous name was, but he never spilled the beans.

 

 Chester adjusted well to our home, and loved to lie on my husband's chest on the weekends and watch sports.  They made a happy pair!  He played with Tugby when he had the energy, and followed me around the house during the day.  He spent most of his time sitting in the sphinx position, maybe stretching out was painful.

 Chester had kitty Crohn's disease and an irritated lining in his stomach.  We tried several antibiotics, antiparasitics, kitty immodium, and 2 different steroids after his diagnosis.  He endured kitty enemas in preparation for his endoscopy.   We fed him premium vet's cat food, and added an extra daily feeding, but still he lost weight.  His appetite was shrinking, and it became obvious that he was bleeding.  He stopped playing with Tugby and grooming himself.

This entire situation has brought back memories of my parents' deaths.  They died in 2008, about 8 months apart.  Both of them were in poor health, and in both cases I had to make decisions about end of life care.  It is always hard to see someone you love suffer, and it is also difficult to make decisions that you know are going to end life.  Sometimes you have no choice.

I am crying a lot today, but trying to imagine Chester running around in the afterlife.  He is no longer in pain, he can run and play with all the other cats.  He is not in pain, and he doesn't need to wear his leash when he goes outside.  He can chase mice and birds, climb trees and roll around in a dirt bath.