My mom and dad’s mother cat had one last litter of kittens probably in the mid 90’s. I didn’t write the date down. They kept Cecil, and Cecil, a huge gray/blue tom was gorgeous. He was also a rounder. They kept finding him along the road further and further from home, so they finally had him neutered, an uncommon thing in our rural community. But they loved Cecil and Cecil loved them.
He and my daughter were best buddies and my brother called him “Mr. Cecil.”” When we lost my 88-year old father in 2008, Mr. Cecil became Mom’s bestest buddy. Sometimes he drove her crazy wanting attention, but it gave her something to do. Somewhere to focus. But two summers ago, something happened to Mr. Cecil. He scratched constantly. The vet had no explanation, nor did we. Maybe just the long hair…..? And it’s HOT in Oklahoma in the summer. He got better with cooler weather, but he was somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 years old then, and this last fall, his health began to seriously deteriorate. Two trips to the vet, with blood work and poking and prodding, told us nothing. Everything looked okay, but it MIGHT be a tumor. Did we want to do more, and more sophisticated, blood work? The only thing it MIGHT be was a tumor since it wasn’t showing up on standard blood work, and there was no cure if that was the problem, so Mom chose to stop. She took Cecil home and began helping him in and out of his bed. Feeding him anything he would eat. (Mom is 85 herself.) He got worse. She expected to find him dead in the bathroom in his box by the heater every morning, but he just kept going.
| Cecil |
| Mom |