Casper came to us when he was five and a half weeks old, in March 2008, the most beautiful British Blue kitten. One look was all it took, and I was his slave. I loved him completely. He was a wonderful little character, playful, laid back and stubborn too. He liked his own way. He wasn't what you would call a 'lap cat'. He was too independent for that, and when he wanted cuddles, he came to me on his own terms. He would jump up onto my lap and prance around, preening himself, telling me 'I'm too pretty mum, you can look, but don't touch...too much!'
I was working in London and my parents were cat-sitting while I was away. My mum called one Wednesday evening to say that they had taken Casper to the vet the day before, as he was a bit poorly. The vet wasn't concerned, she gave him some injections, and he seemed to be getting better. At work on Friday, my dad called to say that Casper had become very ill the evening before and he had been kept in overnight at the vets for tests. The vet had detected a lump in his tummy and they had carried out x-rays and blood tests. They thought his kidney was enlarged and the prognosis they had given my dad was bleak. However, due to his age (22 months) they gave us the option of further tests and treatment. I said anything, anything for my baby! Several hours later my dad was back on the phone and the news was devastating. They couldn't save him and were talking about euthanasia! I said to my dad, I have to come home, I have to be with him! I called the vet and she said they would do some more tests, but he was extremely ill. The following hours were a blur. I drove throughout the night from London and arrived in Scotland at 8am, 9 hours later. By 8.30 I was with him and, seeing him broke my heart. My cheeky, inquisitive, joyous little man could barely lift his poor little head up to look at me. He wouldn't come out of his basket and was attached to an intravenous drip. I knew then that it was over, I was going to lose him. I spoke gently to him, crooning his name and he started purring. The pain was indescribable.
The test results came back and they were as I had feared. Both his kidneys were destroyed. There was nothing we could do to help him. My beautiful boy was dying. My dad came with me for support, and I was determined that I would be there for him. It was the last thing I could ever do for him.
The vet was fantastic. I was a wreck. Watching my baby being put to sleep was the hardest thing I have ever done. He was so weak..so very weak. The vet asked me if I wanted some minutes alone with him to say goodbye before she began the injection. I said please just let him be at peace. He lay in my arms as she began the injection and it was all over in less than a minute. I stroked him, whispering his name, whispering how much I loved him and that I would never forget him. 'There will be no more pain, small man' I whispered. Then he was gone.
It's been almost 7 months since I lost Casper. I still think of him every day. The pain has lessened and I take comfort in the fact that I did the right thing for him. But the pain will never completely disappear, nor will I want it to. His little life was so short, cruelly so. But he was a very happy, spoiled little cat for his entire 22 months on this earth. When I close my eyes I can still see him, can still see the way he stretched his neck when I petted his little head. That memory used to bring tears. It still does, sometimes. But now it also brings smiles. And he will always be in my heart, where he will be safe forever..my small man.