Buster passed away yesterday. He was Mike’s and my first cat. I just can’t believe how quickly he went. Last year, when we took him to the vet, the vet said he was so healthy and looked like a two year old instead of the nine years he really was. We thought he would live till 20! But it just goes to show you, you can’t predict life.
The apartment felt so empty this morning. Even Lucy seemed quieter than usual. It was just two weeks ago that Buster was all happy and running around and asking for head rubs. And now Mike won’t have him to watch football with this fall. It was acute renal failure, and Buster wasn’t eating this past week. I was just hoping the vet would prescribe an appetite stimulant, but she drew blood and found that his kidneys were failing. Buster didn’t look good at all – lost 3 pounds, was meowing loudly because his bladder hurt, and was trying to pee everywhere. We decided to put him down.
Mike and I took turns talking to Buster as they gave him a sedative to help him sleep. We held him and said thank you for making us so happy this past year. I cried like a baby. RIP Buster, and I hope there are cats in heaven.