Ben the cat passed away tonight. He had been fine just a few days ago. Monday morning he seemed fine. Later that afternoon, he could hardly walk and would fall over when he tried. He wouldn't eat and wasn't eliminating, either. Then he had a seizure. Phil figured he had a stroke. He took him in to the vet that night. The vet said it wasn't a stroke but didn't know what it was. Said his blood work all came back fine, except that he was very thin (I saw him eat all the time, but I don't think his body was processing the food very well anymore) and extremely dehydrated. So she gave Phil some antibiotics and steroids and an IV to give him and sent him home. (Unfreaking believable. The cat was MISERABLE; I can't believe she convinced Phil to do that. He was over 20 years old, for crying out loud - he was supposed to get pills shoved down his throat and a needle stuck in him every day?!?!? Yeah, that's a comfortable end.) We were going to have him put down Tuesday, then, because he still wasn't eating or eliminating and seized a few more times. However, we had to go to Detroit for my appointment. So tonight, Phil took him into the vet. Ben died in his arms - BEFORE the vet came in to see him. Phil said he went peacefully.
Now, for all who know me. Yes, I wanted to run around singing "Ding Dong! The cat is dead, the cat is dead, the wicked cat is dead!" Yes, I did not like Ben. But no animal needs to suffer. I did cry over him. And he was very much a lifelong companion to Phil. He was there for him when Phil was on his own in Kansas. Phil's had him through some very trying times. For my dear husband's grief, I grieve with him.
Ben - 1987? to 2007
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