We’re just about to bury our dear little black smoke Devon Rex in the garden. He was nearly twelve years old. For the past couple of years he had suffered from IBD and recently leaked everywhere he sat. He kept himself clean and we didn’t mind. I just put more towels over the furniture and the cat beds and we bought a new washing machine to keep up with the laundry. He was full of personality and we loved him very much.
I‘ve blogged about him before and how we brought him home as a sad little scrap – his brothers and sisters having been picked up a day early. We had already made arrangements to collect him at twelve weeks to the day, but by the time we arrived he was in the cage, all alone. He remembered us from previous visits and by the time we were one mile down the road, he was already purring his head off in the cat basket. He was always happy.
For the past year we’ve tried this drug and that one and sometimes both together. Sometimes there was a slight improvement, but then the leaking got worse again. I was worried about the medicine and eventually weaned him off, replacing the pills with slippery elm bark instead. That too worked for a bit, but then got worse again, so back to the drugs. He was always good with his pills.
The day before yesterday he was absolutely fine. Full of life and he wanted to play with a toy mouse I had picked up from somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be. I let him gently bat the tail for a while. I’m glad I can remember that.
Yesterday morning he wasn’t quite right. Although he came downstairs for breakfast, he didn’t eat much and he was shivering and wobbly on his legs. I made an appointment with our vet and rushed him in straight away. She couldn’t find too much wrong and put it down to a flare-up of IBD – not something he had experienced before. It had never made him feel ill.
I brought him home and fed him some prawns. (We had some delivered the other day for a Christmas treat for the cats). In the evening he wandered into the front room to find us, so we called him to the kitchen for another treat. There, he suddenly didn’t look good, so we rushed him to the emergency vet. She ran blood tests which revealed drastic kidney failure. There had been no signs. He didn’t drink that much and never made much of a puddle when he used the litter trays. She didn’t hold out any hope, so we did the last loving thing possible. We held him in a soft blanket on a chair in the staff restroom and said our goodbyes.
I‘m beyond heartbroken and it’s not helped by the fact that it’s two years to the day since we lost the second of our elderly llamas within 48 hours of one another. I did write a blog post for Christmas day, but I will leave it for next year now.
Goodbye little Gremlin and thank you for spending your life with us. You filled our home with love and happiness. Sleep peacefully…
Tails by the Sea
23 Dec 2017I’m so sorry for your loss. Gremlin sounds like a special little soul.
Zooey
23 Dec 2017Thank you. He was special, but of course, they all are. We’re going to miss him an awful lot :'(
Photofinland by Rantasalot
23 Dec 2017So sorry to hear of your loss, wishing you peaceful Chirstmas.
Good bye Gremlin.
Kosmo and his mom,
in farway Finland.
Zooey
23 Dec 2017Thank you Kosmo’s mum. Have a wonderful Christmas way up there in Finland!
Mila
23 Dec 2017Let Gremlin rest peacefully. My condolences for you. Have passed through the same.
Zooey
23 Dec 2017That’s very kind of you. It hurts to lose them, but then again, we couldn’t live without them…
Mila
23 Dec 2017Yep…
sidilbradipo1
24 Dec 2017I’m crying for cuddly lovely Gremlin. I’m sorry. Another sweet Angel protecting us from the Rainbow Bridge <3
Have a peaceful Christmas <3
Sid
Zooey
25 Dec 2017Thank you Sid. Your comments mean a lot to me. I’m staying away from the internet for a bit. Take care
sidilbradipo1
25 Dec 2017<3
prysmcat
15 Dec 2018A wise friend of mine told me once that it takes immense courage to open ourselves up to them completely, knowing that the outcome will be another hole inside that can never heal… but what would be the point of life without them?
I’m sorry about Gremlin. My 14-year-old tuxie boy, who richly deserves his name Trick-or-Treat, has IBD too. So far, the meds are working, and he’s still enjoying his life thoroughly, but… there’s always that awareness… I’m just grateful that it’s only mine, not his.
(I’m sorry if I triggered any sad memories for you. I couldn’t resist checking out your cat pics, and wanted to offer my sympathy very belatedly.)
Zooey
16 Dec 2018Your friend was very wise indeed. There is only one way and that is to love them completely, regardless of the outcome. Your sympathy is much appreciated today. Yes – I have been thinking about Gremlin a lot as we approach Christmas, but we also lost our elderly pig this morning. She reached the grand old age of 21…