Seven years ago, we got a tiny kitten that Cameron named Tails.
Matthew and I had decided that it was time for a pet, mainly to help Julian build relationships.
It worked. From the day we brought him home until he was unfortunately euthanized, Tails and Julian were best friends.
The Big Floof
Tails loved chicken, no matter how it showed up. He once ate a tender and took my fork with it. If it was chicken night, he sat in a chair ready to eat.
Like most cats, Tails hated belly rubs and you could only pet him so much before he started scratching. He was infamous for his sneak attacks.
When Miss Purr showed up, he wasn’t initially a fan, but they ended up getting along well. This did not happen with Tiger. He really didn’t like Tiger, especially after the one time he barked at him.
We loved Tails, even if he was a little on the mean side and snatched our chicken. He also loved treats. Any kind. It didn’t matter as long as Matthew gave him his treats every night.
A Very Bad Morning
It took me almost two weeks to write this post because I was so crushed.
Everyone woke up on the Saturday after my wisdom tooth removal and the cats came upstairs as usual, but one major thing was wrong.
Tails was dragging himself up the stairs.
I immediately yelled for Matthew and we got him into a carrier. I took him to the vet, while he howled the whole way.
I thought maybe it was a jump gone bad and he’d broken something. A little while later, the vet called me while I sat in my car (thank you, coronavirus). As it turns out, Tails had a blood clot on his hear that we weren’t aware of. Unfortunately, part of the blood clot broke off, cutting off circulation to his back legs. His legs were cold when the vet examined him.
It’s called saddle thrombosis and it is almost always fatal for cats. The only options were to let him stay in the hospital, where he would likely die, or euthanize him.
I called Matthew and we decided that Tails wasn’t going to suffer more than he was and that euthanasia was the best but hardest option.
I sat with Tails for a few minutes before the vet started. I sobbed while holding him and saying goodbye. I would miss the fluffy guy. After he died, I sat alone in the “comfort room” shocked and sad. I drove home with the carrier next to me, but no cat inside.
When I got home, I saw the boys on the couch.
“I am so sorry.” That’s all I could say. The house was quiet that day and everyone took a nap. None of us felt like doing anything. The following day was a quiet one. I went to get Tails’ ashes a few days later and burying him was hard. I let Julian take over that because he was Tails’ human. He is near Tiger.
Losing a pet is difficult, especially one that’s been in the family for years. I’ve made dinner with chicken since and it’s sad to hear the can opener without Tails running from wherever hoping I will throw him a piece of chicken. We are looking for a new friend for Miss Purr. She misses Tails a lot, she’s never been here without him.
Everyone misses Tails, even my mom. She’s not a fan of cats but said she missed him being at the door when she came over a couple of days ago. Hopefully our next cat is as funny and hungry as Tails was.
Go eat all the chicken and hang out with Tiger. You were a very good kitty, Tails.