What can I say about losing a little fur person whose every thought and emotion I could read? So strong was my bond with Chopstix, that he ceased being just a pet...he was our son, my husband's and mine. Our son left for Rainbow Bridge yesterday. Chopstix came late into our lives, having been abandoned (we think) by his previous family during the recession. Unbeknownst to us, he had been hanging out in our neighborhood for over a year before I laid eyes on him. The minute I let him into our house, I knew he was meant to be our baby. He came in timidly purring, almost as though he was asking us to please adopt him. There was no question he would stay. I picked him up that first day and started cutting away his mats, so long embedded in his body that it was certainly a relief for him to have those taken off. He purred the entire time. As the days went by, he became more and more dear to us, and we spoiled him, as all pets should be spoiled, in my opinion. There was no adjustment period for us, it was meant to be. The first vets believed him to be about 10 years old, but they were guessing because the following year and the following year, they still believed him to be ten years old. They also badly misdiagnosed him when he began failing. They said he had a recurrent urinary tract infection and treated him for such for over a year. Of course, to no avail. By the time we found our wonderful mobile vet, he was near death. Fortunately, our new vet was able to turn things around for him, and overnight, Chopstix became a new cat, reborn with the proper medications; he lived a comfortable life with us for two more years, every day of which I gave thanks to God for sending me this wonderful creature. He lived just a little over six years with us, but it might as well have been 25 years, so strong was our bond. Chopstix was a sweet and gentle cat; our vet believed him to be part Ragdoll and maybe part Maine Coon. The groomers (also mobile ones) were all crazy about him; in fact, one of them said Chopstix was the one she groomed when training new hires. He was our puppy cat, greeted everyone who rang our doorbell, followed us around, and communicated with various chirpy sounds and even sharp commands when he felt we weren't quick enough with his food. As with all our furry families, the day came to say good-bye and it was not easy. The Irritable Bowel Syndrome had turned into Lymphoma. Even though it was just the beginning of the disease, it was cancer nonetheless and we could not let him suffer. Our caring vet came to our home and we were even able to keep Chopstix for as long as overnight if we wanted, but we kept him an hour more. We said our goodbyes and I brushed out his mats one more time.
Chopstix passed away in our home after a long illness this afternoon. Chopstix showed up on our deck in the spring of 2009, somewhat scruffy for such a pretty cat. Mary opened the door and in he strolled like he owned the place, and never to leave. Jack told Mary that he looked like a cat he had seen at one of our neighbor's house. After feeding him, cleaning him up and brushing him out, he realized he had stumbled into kitty heaven In no time he had won our hearts. He was the sweetest, gentlest and nicest cat I had ever seen. He loved to be scratched and brushed. He also loved to sit on your lap. Many a surprised guest found him on his lap during a party. He loved being around people. He would always be the center of attention whenever we had visitors. We will miss seeing him when we arrive home. He seemed to have a sense that we had pulled into the garage when we came through the door and was always there to greet us. When anyone rang our doorbell, he was the first one there to see who was at the door. We will miss him in the morning. He was our alarm clock and if I was trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep he would be up on the bed urging me to get moving. He also seemed to be a very healthy cat. One of the few problems we saw at that time was that he would occasionally throw up clear stomach bile. We went through a number of vets to try and find out what was causing this to occur. About two years ago, we had taken him to a new vet, Dr Rob. Actually Dr Rob came to the house as he had just started his new Mobile Veterinary Clinic. This was a large van equipped to handle almost any situation. After only one x-ray, he diagnosed Chopstix with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). It was not a good diagnosis. There were not many clear treatments and it usually led to cancer. We worked out a treatment plan with him that for a long time seemed to be keeping him stable, albeit with him throwing up bile occasionally. He seemed to be doing OK until about a month ago when we noticed he was starting to have more bad days. As time went on he was having more bad days than good days and it became obvious that he was losing weight. This continued to be difficult for us as on his good days he was very normal; eating, looking for scratches and company and the other things cats will do.
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