Our morning started out with sadness. Our 22 lb Scooter, a beautiful black and white lazy house cat passed away.
My only video of Scooter. He was the most talkative cat I've ever known. I think cats like it when you meow back at him. He and I could go on like this for hours. Some of his meows were 3-4 syllables, and Dana swears he was saying MAMA.
Dana said her grandpa used to tell her that the sign of a good cat was one who would let you rub their nose. Scooter like his nose rubber. He also seemed to like his ears played with--well, maybe not like turning them wrong-side out. He would tolerate this for a minute, and then a quick twitch would turn them right side out.
This morning, after his breakfast, he was meowing weird and deep. Every once and a while, he would do this when he had a hairball, and would yak it up either right in the center of the living room carpet, or right where my foot hits the floor when I get out of bed. I figured a pile of cat-urp was forthcoming, but the howling meows kept coming. Dana and I then thought something was wrong. When we saw him, he was trying to walk, but was dragging his hind legs. The paralysis then worsened to where the whole bottom half of his body was unable to move. He was in pain, and was scared. Pet emergencies always happen on a holiday or a weekend, and we had no choice but to take him the the emergency vet clinic.
Dana thought he had thrown a blood clot--something that had happened to a male cat we had several years back. The vet doc told us the same thing. I gave the OK for him to have some pain meds, and the doctor and I discussed Scooter's options. There are surgical procedures that can be done, but he was honest enough to tell me that the chances of a recovery were not good. I hate gut-wrenching decisions like this. HATE IT! But I felt it best to have him put down.