LONELY THIS CHRISTMAS
This is going to be a very sad Christmas not just for me, but for everyone who has shared my grief this year. In June, my darling boy Kizzy passed away at the age of 16 years. A more beautiful chocolate Persian, had never walked the earth, and boy did he know it.
Kizzy became my baby at the age of 6 weeks, when I happened to be in the right place at the right time, when his "farmer" owner had taken him to the vets to be put to sleep, as he had been so inbred, that he had an overshot jaw.
The thought of this was too much for me, and so the little fella became mine. Within days, Kizzy (meaning beautiful and perfect) had ever so cleverly defined the rules for the next 16 years. He would drink mineral water, have fresh chicken and beef, cheese, cheese and onion crisps and for his first Christmas, Brussel sprouts, cooked and then saute with bacon, a little butter and gravy.
His desert on Christmas day would be some clotted cream, after which he would lie quite contentedly until either he needed to move to ease his rounded tummy or it was time for bed. The years passed so quickly, he was diagnosed with a heart murmur in 2000, and I was told that it could take him quite easily and at any time, so each day was precious. But somehow he survived it, and travelled from one end of the country to the other in 2000 miaowing all the way until we reached our new home.
He lost his voice for 2 days, but he had defied the sedation he and the others had been given. Kizzy settled into his life doing what cats do best, very little. But every now and then he would reinforce his position as top cat, by showing one of the others how to open a packet of foil to remove ham, or take a piece of cheese from a plate.
He also used to love drinking milk out of a glass to really embarrass me. In 2008 he had a nasty middle ear infection which did lay him low for a week or so, but recovered quite well and continued to enjoy his life. If ever I had to go away, after a couple of days I would ring him on the speakerphone just so he knew Mum was not far away.
In October 2009, Kizzy began to lose weight and seemed to be drinking a lot and always being hungry, sometimes I felt he could not see as well as he used to either. I called the vet who was pretty sure it was Diabetes, and although he could have had injections, I felt on reflection, that to feed him every 2 hours would be better for him.
Again he paddled on quite cheerfully, some days better than ever, and like a wee kitten and others, he was really showing his age. In April this year he began having little episodes, where he seemed to be "away" from me, but giving him on a friends advice some glucose or cream on his lips lifted his blood sugar, and he rallied once again. I knew it was coming to the time when we would be saying goodbye, but even though I knew, I could not have accepted it. On May 4th in the early hours he had a particularly bad turn, and from then the turns became more and more and his recovery from then was taking longer.
I contacted the vet who said he was in no pain, and if I wanted he would end his life. I promised Kizzy a long time ago, just like I have all the others, that the only time I would consider euthansia would be if they had cancer, were in constant pain or if their quality of life was so impaired it would be cruel to prolong it.
On Tuesday 22nd June 2010 Kizzy slipped away, whilst in my arms, the greatest compliment he could ever have given me. My little precious boy had gone. The grief is still raw, and will never leave me, and someday just like now, I cry as if I am never going to live again, but I owe it to him and his brothers and sisters to carry on, to remember him and honour his life, all I have left are the memories and oh such precious photos of him. I miss you my darling, but I know you miss me too.
God Bless Love Mum - for those of you who have shared this pain and lost dearly much loved little ones of your own, I send you my love. We will never forget them all.