RIP Dusty, a lovely lilac point Burmese, aged 17 who had to be put down this evening after being diagnosed with inoperable cancer this morning after going off his food a few days ago.
He belonged to my parents rather than me, but I'll miss him nonetheless. I'm so glad I went home last weekend and saw him.
We got Dusty, aged about 3, from a pet rehousing program after his former owners could no longer keep him. We'd just lost one of a pair of Burmese, and the remaining one was in a lot of distress missing his brother.
The day he arrived I was out but we were all excited. By the time I got home, he'd managed to escape after my mum took him out into the garden on a lead. We thought he was gone for good since he was from a different part of the country and had no idea where he was or where we were (not to mention who we were).
But he was too lazy to go too far afield and after about 8 days in the wild and several sightings, he was recaptured in a large trap with the help of some freshly cooked fish. We'd already proved the trap worked by catching Tamu, his adopted brother without even the need for bait. Twice.
Dusty was always the more playful of the two (although not the most intelligent cat around). Even up until 6 months ago or so, when he started to feel the effects of old age and spent most of the time curled up asleep, he would go mad and chase catnip mice and balls around the house while noone was around.
After Tamu died (also of cancer) about 18 months ago, he changed. He became a lot more demanding and would go and cry for attention at the top of the stairs. Normally when everyone else was downstairs.
But he was still affectionate in his own way and still playful from time to time. This weekend he surprised us all by bounding around on the grass chasing a model helicopter. I'm glad I had the chance to see him and for him to jump on my lap or curl up on my clothes one last time.
If there was a more pampered cat, I've never seen one. He had his own miniature electric blanket on the sofa that he would be tucked up on at night, although for the last couple of weeks of his life he'd taken to spending most of his time curled up on my bed. He'd get Christmas presents and treats of fresh fish, cooked just for him. He didn't have a bad life really!
Few of my friends are pet owners, so I doubt many of them understand how I feel about 'just a pet'. Thank you for the opportunity to commemorate Dusty and to help me remember his odd little traits and things he did over the years.
RIP Dusty. More than just a pet, part of the family for 15 years.
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