Tychon was a special needs cat. I think he truly adopted his human; I was walking by the adoptions at Petsmart, and he reached up toward me with his one front leg. He was all black and had 3 legs, but he was very affectionate and he curled up in my lap when they got him out. Even the lady working there told me he picked his human out. He tugged at my heart strings since he had had a rough life and was going to be a hard adoption. That was 4 years ago.
Over the last year his eyesight deteriorated because of his high blood pressure. My wife and I noticed he seemed to have trouble finding his food dish, and the vet confirmed he was probably blind. Didn't stop him though, he was still very affectionate and he could still find his way around.
Sometime last night we think he must have had a stroke. I thought I heard a noise like one of the cats playing with something loud downstairs. We kept him corralled between some baby gates so he wouldn't wander too far from his litter box. I thought it sounded strange, and I found him sprawled in a strange position. He couldn't stand up, and if he tried he just flopped around helplessly, and was obviously distressed as he had tried to get to his litter box. Rushed him to the emergency clinic, and they confirmed there was something very wrong, and probably he'd had a stroke. I had a bad feeling he wouldn't be going home, and they said he would probably not be able to function normally. So, they let me hold him as he went across the rainbow bridge. At least he had calmed down and was purring while his human was petting him.
It's hard. I have to remind myself I gave him a good home, he had a good life despite his disabilities, and there wasn't much else I could do. I have to keep telling myself it was the right decision, but I feel awful that I had to make the call.
Over the last year his eyesight deteriorated because of his high blood pressure. My wife and I noticed he seemed to have trouble finding his food dish, and the vet confirmed he was probably blind. Didn't stop him though, he was still very affectionate and he could still find his way around.
Sometime last night we think he must have had a stroke. I thought I heard a noise like one of the cats playing with something loud downstairs. We kept him corralled between some baby gates so he wouldn't wander too far from his litter box. I thought it sounded strange, and I found him sprawled in a strange position. He couldn't stand up, and if he tried he just flopped around helplessly, and was obviously distressed as he had tried to get to his litter box. Rushed him to the emergency clinic, and they confirmed there was something very wrong, and probably he'd had a stroke. I had a bad feeling he wouldn't be going home, and they said he would probably not be able to function normally. So, they let me hold him as he went across the rainbow bridge. At least he had calmed down and was purring while his human was petting him.
It's hard. I have to remind myself I gave him a good home, he had a good life despite his disabilities, and there wasn't much else I could do. I have to keep telling myself it was the right decision, but I feel awful that I had to make the call.