RIP Merlin, May 1993 - May 2011

I said goodbye to my kitty today.

Last night he was pretty miserable and I stayed up with him until about 2 am, when he finally slept. Today I stayed home from work. Since getting sick earlier in the week he's been pretty insistent about wanting to sleep in the shower downstairs. I don't know why being soaked appealed to him, because he didn't seem to be running a temperature. But anyway, this morning I let him sleep in the shower while I napped nearby.

This afternoon I tried yet again to get him to eat something, and he wouldn't. About an hour after that I was reading on the bench in the bathroom to keep him company, when he came out of the shower and looked at me. I took him out to the front porch, because he used to love lying on the front porch. When we got out there, he threw up what looked like a hell of a lot of blood.

Mom was already going to the vet's office, to pick up some Buprenorphine to try to make him more comfortable. I called her and told her to stay, and I met her there. Dr Jon agreed that Merlin was one pretty sick kitty, and said that they could try a fluid IV; if he would tolerate it, and if he responded to it, (both of those pretty big ifs) I might have a few more weeks or a couple more months. No more than that.

Merlin was so listless and weak that he didn't even growl at Dr Jon, let alone try to bite him. Dr Jon gave us some time to say goodbye, and then I stayed there while he put Merlin to sleep.

I'm desperately sad right now, even though I know it was the right decision. He was miserable and I am pretty sure he was ready to go. We had eighteen years together, most of them wonderful, despite the biting and the fits he used to have. I got him when I was sixteen, so we spent over half of my life together.

I keep expecting to hear his little paws running across the hardwood floors, or his "mama" meow that meant he wanted my attention. And I keep coming across more little things that he left places after playing with them, or water bowls that I moved this week trying to get him to drink. I see the windowsill Dad put in this fall, deliberately designed to be wide enough for Merlin to enjoy sitting in the window.

This sucks. But life without Merlin would have sucked more.

His last day with me


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RIP Merlin, May 1993 - May 2011

I said goodbye to my kitty today.

Last night he was pretty miserable and I stayed up with him until about 2 am, when he finally slept. Today I stayed home from work. Since getting sick earlier in the week he's been pretty insistent about wanting to sleep in the shower downstairs. I don't know why being soaked appealed to him, because he didn't seem to be running a temperature. But anyway, this morning I let him sleep in the shower while I napped nearby.

This afternoon I tried yet again to get him to eat something, and he wouldn't. About an hour after that I was reading on the bench in the bathroom to keep him company, when he came out of the shower and looked at me. I took him out to the front porch, because he used to love lying on the front porch. When we got out there, he threw up what looked like a hell of a lot of blood.

Mom was already going to the vet's office, to pick up some Buprenorphine to try to make him more comfortable. I called her and told her to stay, and I met her there. Dr Jon agreed that Merlin was one pretty sick kitty, and said that they could try a fluid IV; if he would tolerate it, and if he responded to it, (both of those pretty big ifs) I might have a few more weeks or a couple more months. No more than that.

Merlin was so listless and weak that he didn't even growl at Dr Jon, let alone try to bite him. Dr Jon gave us some time to say goodbye, and then I stayed there while he put Merlin to sleep.

I'm desperately sad right now, even though I know it was the right decision. He was miserable and I am pretty sure he was ready to go. We had eighteen years together, most of them wonderful, despite the biting and the fits he used to have. I got him when I was sixteen, so we spent over half of my life together.

I keep expecting to hear his little paws running across the hardwood floors, or his "mama" meow that meant he wanted my attention. And I keep coming across more little things that he left places after playing with them, or water bowls that I moved this week trying to get him to drink. I see the windowsill Dad put in this fall, deliberately designed to be wide enough for Merlin to enjoy sitting in the window.

This sucks. But life without Merlin would have sucked more.

His last day with me


( More pictures )