[EDIT2] Things turned grim last evening. Seems he was breathing his last breath after all. We had to put him down in the end. He was poisoning himself due to failing kidneys and his heartbeat was dangerously irregular. 10-10-10 is a day I'll remember forever. Joris, you will be missed...[/EDIT2]
[EDIT] Good news! He's still alive and getting better! Turns out the fatal stroke we believed he had (dragging with his left rear leg) is simply a severe bruise! Still, he's in pain but luckily with the painkillers and loads of resting he should be able to get all better!
What a relief![/EDIT]
Per usual, once you start saying you're feeling good, shit will hit the fan.
About 2 hours ago I had a phonecall from my mother with the plea to rush home: My cat's end is near.
He had 2 strokes this month and despite the initial shock, he got back to his old self again.
Alas, this didn't last long it seems.
At the moment he's dragging his left rear leg behind the rest of his body and he's trying to hide himself in the strangest places, taking his distance from the rest of the family.
Things don't look good, nor feel good and I'll be honest to say that I'm sad, scared and confused.
If things go on like this we'll go to the vet in a few hours and probably need to put him down.
I love my cat. I remember the day we got him. It was the day before the last "elfstedentocht". He was a mess. A streetcat. Wild and lacking social skills. Hardly a lapcat, yet still loveable, simply because he had a unique attitude.
Time went on and we managed to change his personality. We gave him all the love and care he could ever imagine and in return he loved us back.
And in the end he loved everyone. Stranger or friend, he'd walk towards you and demand attention in such a way that you wouldn't refuse!
He was a talker, so if you said something towards him he'd reply in his way and to some degree he understood certain basic phrases, like "Food", "Milk", "Wanna go outside?" and many more. (all in dutch btw)
I remember when I would get home, drunk as shit, and he'd be waiting for me in the middle of the road. He knew exactly what kind of sound me and my bike made. He would then walk with me to the backdoor and in return I would take him on my lap and cuddle him, just as he had planned, gheh. He'd also try and stare the food out of your mouth. He would jump on the table, sit across you and simply stare. Brushing his head against your wrist and when you'd look up to the TV or something, he'd be grabbing the meat from your plate!
I could go on and on about him, but i simply can't. I'm just not feeling stable enough to tell more.