Zachariah In Memoriam

We found out several months ago that our beloved cat, Zachy, 11 years old, had terminal stomach cancer.  There was really nothing to do but try to keep him comfortable and put him down when it was time.  For me, figuring out when to euthanize an animal is the hardest part.  But I had faith that we would know when the time came.  So, with a bottle of Prednizone, we went home and hoped for the best.

The steroid really seemed to help, and Zach was almost back to his normal self.  Meanwhile, we were also taking care of our daughter Fiona's three kittens.  Zach actually got along with them quite well;  in fact one, Harley, seemed to love Zach and followed him all around and slept next to him.

As the weeks went by, Zach got sicker, of course, and sat on my lap less and less. Eating became more and more difficult and he stopped grooming himself.  Finally, last week, he couldn't keep anything down.  We knew it was time.

We took him to the pet hospital and he sat on Rich's lap on the way.  When we got there, he was very calm and stoic.  We were called and went into the smaller of the two examination rooms.  As Zach lay on the table, we cradled his warm, furry body and stroked his white whiskers.  His bony spine was a ridge of tiny mountains.  Dr. Merrill came in and shaved a small patch on his leg, then inserted the first needle which put him to sleep.  He relaxed and became limp.  After the second shot, he was a rag doll with no stuffing. We buried him in the backyard next to our other cat, Sam. Deciding that today was the day was difficult, but I knew he was finally at peace.

We miss our tiny kitten (who in his prime was a huge 16 pound cat).  He was more like a dog than a cat:  he came when called, played with our dog, and led us to his food bowl.  He was always hungry!  We have many pictures of him to enjoy and he will live in our hearts forever.  Good bye Zachy.