Post by Kristen Gamauf on Aug 3, 2006 19:04:20 GMT -5
I felt compelled to write today to let everyone know that we lost our beloved cat Louie a week ago. She came down sick last Wednesday, we took her in to the vet Thursday afternoon, and she died sometime late Thursday night / early Friday morning.
Louie was just shy of being 18-years-old, an age most kitties don't see. In pet years, that's equivalent to a 92-year-old I guess. She had kidney failure. Up to the very end of her life, she was mobile and active. She died on her own and quickly. Luckily we did not have to put her to sleep, as I know I would have felt the guilt for many years.
Of course, when you have a pet that long, it is difficult to lose them. We named her after our great-uncle Paul's cat Louie. That Louie was a boy. We confused many people over the years with Louie's name! I remember bringing her home as a kitten. She grew up with us. She would go for walks with us exploring the fields around our house. We looked back through many old photos later that weekend and laughed. It made us feel better to remember all of the good times we've had with her.
I was just entering first grade when we got her. Mike wasn't even in school yet. That's a long time. My dad had a mullet, mom had 80's hair, and Mike & I wore acid-wash jeans!
Louie had always been "my cat" (and Doogie "Mike's dog") up until the last year of her life or so. At some point, Mike became her favorite. During Mike's recovery, she brought him great comfort when he was feeling down. At those times when he could barely walk to the kitchen, waking up to feed her in the morning gave him a sense of purpose for getting out of bed. For me too, crying in bed when Mike was in the hospital, Louie would jump up and curl up next to me. It gave me some sense of comfort to have her there.
He spoiled her in her last year, often feeding her several different types of cat food and also chilled bottled water. He told me he knew something was wrong last Thursday morning when she did not get him out of bed at 5AM. I think she was sticking around long enough to make sure Mike was going to be alright.
Anyways, I don't mean to go on and on about our cat. But seeing how you the viewers of this site got to see and hear about Louie's visits to Edwin Shaw during Mike's recovery, I figured you would at least appreciate a small tribute to an animal that was such a part of our family for so many years.
Louie was just shy of being 18-years-old, an age most kitties don't see. In pet years, that's equivalent to a 92-year-old I guess. She had kidney failure. Up to the very end of her life, she was mobile and active. She died on her own and quickly. Luckily we did not have to put her to sleep, as I know I would have felt the guilt for many years.
Of course, when you have a pet that long, it is difficult to lose them. We named her after our great-uncle Paul's cat Louie. That Louie was a boy. We confused many people over the years with Louie's name! I remember bringing her home as a kitten. She grew up with us. She would go for walks with us exploring the fields around our house. We looked back through many old photos later that weekend and laughed. It made us feel better to remember all of the good times we've had with her.
I was just entering first grade when we got her. Mike wasn't even in school yet. That's a long time. My dad had a mullet, mom had 80's hair, and Mike & I wore acid-wash jeans!
Louie had always been "my cat" (and Doogie "Mike's dog") up until the last year of her life or so. At some point, Mike became her favorite. During Mike's recovery, she brought him great comfort when he was feeling down. At those times when he could barely walk to the kitchen, waking up to feed her in the morning gave him a sense of purpose for getting out of bed. For me too, crying in bed when Mike was in the hospital, Louie would jump up and curl up next to me. It gave me some sense of comfort to have her there.
He spoiled her in her last year, often feeding her several different types of cat food and also chilled bottled water. He told me he knew something was wrong last Thursday morning when she did not get him out of bed at 5AM. I think she was sticking around long enough to make sure Mike was going to be alright.
Anyways, I don't mean to go on and on about our cat. But seeing how you the viewers of this site got to see and hear about Louie's visits to Edwin Shaw during Mike's recovery, I figured you would at least appreciate a small tribute to an animal that was such a part of our family for so many years.