The bad part about having pets is they die. We had to put one of our cats, Pokey, down last night. He’s the guy in the pic, obviously. He came in along with his mom, who died in 2014, his brother and sister in 1999.

He was a real piece of work, as one of our friends would say. When he was a kitten we’d put the kitten food down for them and he would just stick is face into it and lick it off his face, until he figured how to eat it.

He liked to jump. His favorite routine was to jump from the kitchen counter across the room to the top of the fridge, where he’d look down on us as if to say “I am in charge, peons!” The funny thing about it is, in every picture we have of him, he looks like the meanest cat in the world. The exact opposite was true. As you can tell in the pic, another of his favorite things was to jump onto my shoulder and lick my hair. Yeah, weird, I know.

About 5 years ago he was diagnosed with hyper-thyroidism and then some sort of ibd, which prevented his body from absorbing nutrients and stuff, so his weight began to decrease. But with meds he was able to last as long as he did.

A couple of months ago he developed pancreatitis, for which he was treated with a long lasting antibiotic called Convenia, and was given fluids because he was also dehydrated. He re-bounded nicely and when he went for his check-up last month he had actually gained some weight and was a little over five pounds.

This past weekend he was showing signs of not feeling well, so I took him to the vet on Monday. He had lost weight, was dehydrated and probably had pancreatitis again, so he was given fluids and that Convenia shot. I had hoped to see some improvement when I got home that night but there was none. There was none yesterday morning and last night he wouldn’t eat or drink. Just assumed the “sphynx pose”, I like to call it. We figured the end was near and I was prepared to take him this morning. Then he started to walk and we noticed that he wasn’t doing that very well, either. He was kinda wobbly and I decided I didn’t want to see him suffer or possibly hurt himself trying to jump from the table to counter. Yeah, he was still jumping.

I took him to the pet emergency clinic and explained the situation, and after a couple of exchanges between me, the tech, and the vet, who was in surgery, the preparations were made. When she put him on the scale he weighed 3.9 pounds. Yep, he had pretty much tanked!

It’s amazing how the loss of one cat changes the whole routine. The four remaining cats eat mostly dry food, Pokey ate only wet. Only opened a couple of cans this morning and I guess we’ll adjust as needed. The folks at PetSmart probably won’t be seeing us as much.

I find it odd that when we’ve lost cats, it’s usually two in one year. Chubber and Tiger went in 2009, Munchkin and Curly Jo in 2014, and Dirt Bag and Pokey on 2017. Weird, huh?