Smokey, one of our two Manx cats, died today. She had developed kidney disease and she was off her food and was very subdued so we took her back to the vets on Saturday. Despite trying “poor man’s dialysis” where they put the cat on a saline drip to help flush the kidneys through the creatinine levels didn’t drop and the vet said that it was pretty much the end for her.
So Kathy and I left work early and Kathy went in to be with Smokey as she was put to sleep. Kathy gave her lots of tickles from me and talked to her, Smokey purred and Kathy continued to talk to her and tickle and stroke her as the vet injected her. She passed away very quickly, and although we know that she wouldn’t understand a word Kathy was saying the fact that there was a voice, a touch, a smell and a person she recognised and indeed would have been the last thing she “remembered” as she went under is some small comfort.
The following photos of Smokey are ones I took when I lived in my flat on Gloucester Road, when she and Sooty ruled the roost and the sofa was, as you can see, Smokey’s domain
Smokey was much more than just a pet. Manx cats seem to favour a single person and she decided that the person she was going to favour was me. When I was sitting in my chair watching TV she’d climb up and onto the back and snuggle down against my neck, sometimes she’d even lick it for me 😉
At night she would often climb onto the bed and it was always my side that she climbed up onto and where she stayed, usually right at the top by my chest. I’d lie there listening her purring and I lost count of the number of times I woke up to find her with her head lying on the pillow.
The house seems strangely empty without her. Her “meeping” at us for food or attention, having to move her so I can get in and out of bed.
Smokey, family cat and companion, you will be sorely missed by us all.
