sarahmichelef

In the past 36 hours, my parents have put down both of our/their cats. Freckles was born in May of 1989 and came to live with us in August of that year; Patriot was born sometime in late 1990 and found us when he was a couple of months old ("Patriot" is what you get when you let an 8th grader name a cat during Gulf War #1). Freckles was more greydora's cat and Patriot was mine. F was a siamese tabby who knew just how pretty he was and had an attitude; P was your generic mutt-cat, dumb as a post but also very sweet. They were good cats, but they were both very old. Patriot lost one eye to glaucoma a couple of years ago and the sight in the second eye roughly a year ago. Freckles had gone from being a 20-pound behemoth to 8 or 9 pounds and all my mom could get him to eat was chopped-up chicken thighs. Patriot got sick Tuesday night/Wednesday - Mom took him to the vet, they rehydrated him but he had some infection that antibiotics couldn't kick. Freckles was completely listless (refusing to go out, which he always wanted to do) and didn't even fight Mom when she put him in the carrier to take him to the vet. It was time.

Good bye, feckless one and dumb cat. Have fun being healthy and whole and catching crawdads in the creek.