A last farewell to my darling Latte, nearly 8 years old.
Some last waking moments together. I love you Tei Tei.
The last 4 or 5 years I’ve been even more devoted to our British Shorthair Latte. He went by many names, Tei Tei, Chubbies and Chub Chubs.
He had a difficult life, being born with a problem with his rear hips making it very difficult for him to walk. Then at the age of 2 the vet suggested a big double hip operation, TO REMOVE HIS REAR HIPS! As predicted by the vet, this miraculously restored much of his walking and much of his mobility. While he never ran again, he was able to walk without his back legs sliding out sideways, and after a little while was even able to climb onto our bed and the sofa. We were so delighted that he could enjoy a more normal life again.
Then tragedy struck again. About a year later, after climbing onto the sofa, he fell off and hit his head hard against the coffee table. He immediately went into a spasm which lasted a couple of hours. While that disappeared, he lost forever his ability to walk or climb. So for the last 5 years Daddy has been his legs every few hours. Some things need regular attention! Day and night.
But I resolved I would do my best to make sure he knew he was loved and could have every need attended to. After his big operation a year earlier the vet had warned us that his natural life span would be foreshortened. I resolved to make every day as special for him as I could.
For a couple of years, lifts too and from the litter tray were normal together with lifts to the place where we fed him, and where we gave him his after breakfast treats. He so looked forward to those. After finishing his chicken and soup he would look up earnestly at his daddy to say, “Where’s my bread”.
So I’d pick him up and take him to the balcony where Yvonne and I were supping our espressos, and Tei Tei would eagerly consume his slice of bread.
A couple of years ago, at this time of year, he contracted a cold and stopped eating and drinking. Not even his beloved bread treats. But daddy would chop up some of his chicken extra fine, put it in a bottle together with some of the chicken soup, and feed him manually, pouring it down his throat. While it was uncomfortable and he didn’t enjoy it, it kept him alive. After about 6 weeks he grew a little stronger and his appetite returned. Daddy was so overjoyed!!!
But then a week or 10 days ago, he suffered an injury to his leg. Daddy was trimming some of the hairs on him tummy which had become congealed with poo, and couldn’t be washed off, daddy trimmed a bit too close to his leg and nicked his skin. He didn’t appear to be in pain, and daddy made sure it was disinfected with iodine every day.
But then on Saturday he stopped eating again. Still drinking water from the fountain, but not eating. So daddy started back on the finely chopped chicked and soup in a bottle routine. He took it, but was becoming noticeably weaker, and the wound on his leg appeared to become infected despite the washing with iodine. He was obviously uncomfortable yesterday, but today was crying in pain if I picked him up. Even after feeding him back on his bed.
Yvonne and I realised that this was not recovereable. So we took him to see the vet downstairs who agreed. So weak and in pain, we said our last goodbyes in tears. Lord, I had dreaded this moment for years. I had endlessly prayed for him to have a long life despite the vet’s warning. Every night after his evening meal I’d give him a full body massage, both with my hands and also with a head massager. He loved both of these. And I’d pray. But it was time for him to leave us.
We left him around 10:30 this morning.
Though we still have 6 other gorgeous cats that we love to the moon and back, the house feels so empty without him. I look around for him, to see if he’s OK. If he needs his sanitary paper replacing. But he’s not there. His bed’s not there. There are spaces where he should be.
I miss my darling Chub Chubs so much.
It hurts so much and I feel so empty and numb inside.
I turn to our other babies but they don’t understand (I think) why daddy is so sad.
He’s not the first we’ve lost. There was Billy Boy back in 2014 at only 8 months old. Then suddenly Miss Gege had a heart attack about 2 years ago, and despite getting her down to the vet downstairs within 5 minutes he could not revive her. I remember carrying her to the vet and she stopped stuggling the moment we opened the surgery door. The two vets immediately went to work on her with heart compressions, oxygen, and adrenaline. But after half any hour we all realised it was now too late.
And now another.
And in due time there will be more, but we pray not for a long time and we’ll celebrate every day with them, as I did with Chubbies.
Here’s a Flick album together with some special moments that we’ve had together over the last 8 years.
Will Newcomb's Witterings 