Rush went to the rainbow bridge
I don't know if you remember or not, but I had posted a thread on how Rush was slowly slipping down hill.
Monday my parents took him into the vet to be put down. I had told my mom previously that if it ever came to that point and they made the decision to put him to sleep I didn't want to know about it before hand.
We came home from school and I noticed Rush wasn't in the laundry room or downstairs in his favorite sleeping places, but I figured he was upstairs in my mom's room. The back of my mind was saying, "No, he's gone," but I pushed it aside and went about the rest of my evening. At bedtime I hadn't seen him anywhere which was highly unusual and I asked my mom what had happened. I was pretty sure he had been put down, but I wanted to hear it from her.
She told me that Dad had taken him in to the vet earlier that morning and had him put to sleep. I was able to say, "I figured," and then, "I'm going to go cry now," before I broke down.
God, I never thought I'd miss that stupid, peeing, annoying cat so much. I cried the first day or two and I can now talk about him being gone without choking on my tears.
We had Rush since he was born. I was two. I grew up around that cat and he suffered through my brother and I, the twins, and then Melanie. No matter what animal I brought into the house he put it in its place and let them know that it was HIS house first, not theirs. He was a teacher to us kids, helping us to learn to respect animals. He knew when just a swat was neccessary or if the claws should come out.
As you all know he had been going down hill for awhile now. He weighed a measly six or eight pounds and should have weighed twelve. Those last couple of days he had been eating even less, sleeping more, and he started to pee everywhere around the house even when a litterbox was availible. He was confined to our laundry room when we couldn't watch him and since the highlight of his day was to be held and loved (he would purr so loud!), it was time to let him go. You could still see the remnants of his spirit, but he was a shell of the cat he used to be. It was the right decision to make, but that doesn't make me feel any better about it.
I knew it was coming and I had braced for it, but apparently no matter how ready you try to get, you never are ready enough for when it happens.
He lived to see his fifteenth birthday. Rest in peace, my handsome kitty. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to say good-bye and hug you one last time.
Born Good Friday of '93. Put to rest a week and three days after his fifteenth birthday on March 31.
My handsome kitty Rushie, or "Kitty Mew", before he got sick, around 14 years old in these photos:
http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y15...tober07004.jpg
http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y15...tober07003.jpg
http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y15...tober07017.jpg
http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y15...someRushie.jpg
I'll miss you, mon chat. We always said you were going to out live us all. I guess wishes like that can't come true, huh?
It is comforting knowing that he isn't in any pain anymore. I still find myself stepping over places where he used to lay all of the time or checking the seat before I sit down in his favorite chair. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
He'll be treasured in my memories always.
