JaytheGamefan
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We got Rocky back in '88 at the local pound. A fairly young couple also wanted him, but their apartment complex didn't allow pets, so we got him. Little did we think that he'd still be around 18 years later. He was fully grown then, and the concensous at the vet's office was that he was probably 22-25 years old.
A few months after getting him, he ran through a screen door leading to our backyard and we thought for sure he was gone. Then in '93, hurricanes hit VA and we came home early from our vacation to find him with a giant, open red sore on one leg. We took him to the vet and were told that if we hadn't come back early, he'd have lost a leg. '01 was his next health scare, when he had an infection in his back. We expected to find him dead somewhere in the house, or worse, on the street. After that, he was fine up until a few weeks ago when he started jumping up on the sinks and drinking water out of the spigot. He was a little scrawnier than usual, but still moved around a lot so we didn't think much of it.
Then the other day, he started to get really secretive and hide around the house. I did some research and thought that it might've been his incredibly strong flea collar making him sick. At about 1:25 AM EST, we found out that wasn't the case - his kidneys were about 85% gone, the condition was irreversible, and he had maybe two weeks to "live". After the most frantic minute I've experience, I finally said the words I never wanted to say in my life and agreed that Rocky should be put to sleep as soon as possible.
At around 1:30, we said our goodbyes to Rocky, told him we loved him, that we'd never forget him, and let the doctor administer the first shot. That floored him. His legs gave way without hesitation, but he was still breathing, so we decided to pet him, and as the last shot was given, he passed away purring loudly like he did all the time for much of his life, while the two people who loved him more than anyone else petted him into heaven. He died in the most painless manner possible, and I said a few days ago that if any creature on the face of the Earth deserved a painless death, it was him. The doctor noted that he was a beatiful cat, since he'd retained a youthful appearance even until the end.
He lived many years longer than anyone ever expected, since he was an indoor/outdoor cat for his whole life (up until two nights ago), and had very few health crises considering that. Despite being neutered, he was able to raise our third cat, Gracie's daughter Spud as if she was his own. The last cat he was with was Spud, and was on my bed bathing and coddling her as if she was a newborn - just as he'd always done her entire life. I'll never know exactly when his life began, but it ended on November 15, 2006 at around 1:30 AM - roughly two weeks before I was set to be born in '83, and about 10 days from when my grandmother died in '92. I'll always remember Rocky no matter what happens in my life; he gave everything he could to everyone he loved, but his body just couldn't keep going.
Here he is sleeping, and looking as peaceful as was when he passed on -
Wrapped up in a blanket a few years ago -
Sleeping next to Gracie a few years ago -
Another shot of them together, with her babying him -
Here he is with his pride and joy, his adopted baby girl, Spud -
A few months after getting him, he ran through a screen door leading to our backyard and we thought for sure he was gone. Then in '93, hurricanes hit VA and we came home early from our vacation to find him with a giant, open red sore on one leg. We took him to the vet and were told that if we hadn't come back early, he'd have lost a leg. '01 was his next health scare, when he had an infection in his back. We expected to find him dead somewhere in the house, or worse, on the street. After that, he was fine up until a few weeks ago when he started jumping up on the sinks and drinking water out of the spigot. He was a little scrawnier than usual, but still moved around a lot so we didn't think much of it.
Then the other day, he started to get really secretive and hide around the house. I did some research and thought that it might've been his incredibly strong flea collar making him sick. At about 1:25 AM EST, we found out that wasn't the case - his kidneys were about 85% gone, the condition was irreversible, and he had maybe two weeks to "live". After the most frantic minute I've experience, I finally said the words I never wanted to say in my life and agreed that Rocky should be put to sleep as soon as possible.
At around 1:30, we said our goodbyes to Rocky, told him we loved him, that we'd never forget him, and let the doctor administer the first shot. That floored him. His legs gave way without hesitation, but he was still breathing, so we decided to pet him, and as the last shot was given, he passed away purring loudly like he did all the time for much of his life, while the two people who loved him more than anyone else petted him into heaven. He died in the most painless manner possible, and I said a few days ago that if any creature on the face of the Earth deserved a painless death, it was him. The doctor noted that he was a beatiful cat, since he'd retained a youthful appearance even until the end.
He lived many years longer than anyone ever expected, since he was an indoor/outdoor cat for his whole life (up until two nights ago), and had very few health crises considering that. Despite being neutered, he was able to raise our third cat, Gracie's daughter Spud as if she was his own. The last cat he was with was Spud, and was on my bed bathing and coddling her as if she was a newborn - just as he'd always done her entire life. I'll never know exactly when his life began, but it ended on November 15, 2006 at around 1:30 AM - roughly two weeks before I was set to be born in '83, and about 10 days from when my grandmother died in '92. I'll always remember Rocky no matter what happens in my life; he gave everything he could to everyone he loved, but his body just couldn't keep going.
Here he is sleeping, and looking as peaceful as was when he passed on -
Wrapped up in a blanket a few years ago -
Sleeping next to Gracie a few years ago -
Another shot of them together, with her babying him -
Here he is with his pride and joy, his adopted baby girl, Spud -
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