So Oscar was an only cat again but after about 9 or 11 years, he began to not drink water and we became suspicious. Unlike my earlier days with cats, we made sure our guys got their shots and regular checkups. Years before, I noticed Oscar dragging his bottom on the rug as he pulled himself forward. At the vet we discovered he had a clogged gland under his tail – this is the gland that produces the fluid that male cats use to “mark” their territory, though he hadn’t used it which was part of the problem. The vet took him into the back office and, he described, he emptied and cleaned the gland. Oscar never had that problem, again.
Another, more serious problem was a lump we found on his tail. The Vet told us he would either remove it or perhaps the entire tail but he only had to cut it out and Oscar came home with his entire tail wrapped in tape. Selina thought this was fascinating and chased this new object across the floor. Oscar was not amused and our two guys had one of the few real fights over this. The bandage came off once or twice but afterward all seemed to be well.
This time, we weren’t going to be as lucky: Oscar’s kidneys were failing and we were told he only had a short time, to take him home, make him comfortable until the time came to make the decision. After a week or two he couldn’t do the steps, wasn’t eating or drinking so we knew the fateful day had come. We called the Vet to arrange to put Oscar to sleep.
Shirley couldn’t bear do it so I took him. The Vet told me the procedure: one shot to anesthetize him, then, lastly, a shot to stop his heart. I held Oscar in a separate room, as shot one was given, as I petted him, talked to him and cried my eyes out. Finally the last and Oscar was gone. I was balling as he came, told me to say goodbye to Oscar and I had lost another friend and once again thought about that quote from Arthur C. Clark.
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