Friday, May 18, 2007

Ode to our Doughboy





On Thursday, 17 May, we made the decision to put our cat, Vincenzo, to sleep. It was truly the only humane option.

He was throwing up a lot, urinating on the floor and acting very odd- laying around on the floor, not eating or drinking and not using the litter box. We took him to the Emergency Vet who thought it was just an infection. After force feeding him medicine, which did nothing, we took him to the Vet on Monday morning, who determined that he had a urinary tract blockage. The Vet put in a catheter for 48 hours and all seemed fine. On Wednesday, he took it out. By Thursday morning, he was blocked up again. The Vet gave us greater than 50% odds that he would experience more blockage if he put the catheter back in and surgery was too expensive- and also had high odds that the blockage would return. Since Vincenzo had been suffering for almost five days already, we decided that the most humane option would be to put him to sleep.

It was one of the hardest moments of my entire life. I don't think I've ever cried so much or so hard. My wife was surely more heartbroken. She's had Vincenzo longer than she's known me.

Vincenzo lived a good, long 10 years. He was an indoor cat, so he lived a life of luxury and never wanted for anything. We loved him and showed our love to him at every opportunity. He will be greatly missed.

Vincenzo, we love you and we miss you. We'll always remember how you loved to hang your front feet off the sofa, or sleep on our shoes, or the scale, or anything else that you could find on the floor. We'll miss how you waddled when you walked. We'll miss how you would remind us every night to brush you. We'll miss how you followed us to every room. We'll miss how you would let us know that your feeder was getting low several days in advance and how much you loved Clean Water Day. We'll miss how you came running for one thing: tuna juice.

But most of all, we'll miss your ever-present company and just knowing that you were always around.

I hope God has plenty of tuna juice and clean water for you in heaven.

We love you.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jenny and I offer our condolences. The companion of more than a decade has left you many heart-warming memories. I remember him as a quiet gentleman of feline. Even when Rebekah would cry and scream (at what must have looked liked a puma to an eight month old), Vincenzo did not lose his cool. He was a fine, handsome cat.

Anonymous said...

I remember when "Vinnie and Val" were visiting me in New York last year. His interaction with my new puppy, Monty, was priceless. Monty and I extend our condolences and hope that the ache of loss is soon replaced by many smiles remembering happy times.

Anonymous said...

From the day we found him stranded in a box on the raodside, Vincenzo has always been a good cat. After watching him grow (and get fatter and fatter until he earned himself the moniker, "The Doughboy") and mature and now hearing of his loss - I must say that he was one of the best "Nephew-kitties" I've ever had. He will be sorely missed.

Anonymous said...

This is truly a sad, sad day for all of us left behind. :(