Goodbye Callie

I had to put my cat down today. Callie has been with me longer than Tom or the boys. He's survived all kinds of weird health stuff, moved from Florida to Texas to Virginia, escaped and was found, and made a few friends along the way. Those friends are missing him terribly and having a hard time with his exit. Max was asking all kinds of questions about what happened to Callie (he was napping when I took Callie to the vet - I didn't expect not to bring him home). I was trying to be truthful, but explain delicately without leading him to believe that I killed his cat, how uncomfortable Callie was and how much better off he is now. I told him that we'd make a Callie scrapbook tomorrow and he could include anything that he and his brothers wanted. They are all kind of sad, as we all are, but Callie was 13 years old and he lived a long happy life.

The past few days Callie was having some difficulty, and stopped eating over the past .two days. Because he was diabetic (this is the cat that got out the week that we moved and went missing for five days) and I had a bad feeling, I took him to the Cat ER this afternoon. They told me that his insides were filled with infected fluid (sorry to be gross here). There was a lot they could do, but none of it would make him more comfortable, and none of it had a positive outcome. So, I had to make the tough decision to put him down. While my heart is broken, I know that he has been very uncomfortable the past few days and this certainly would help him out. Also, we really have considered the past few weeks "Bonus Weeks" as we didn't think that we'd actually find him after he escaped when we moved - cats aren't often found when they wander off - especially inside cats who have no idea where they live, or are diabetic and are without their insulin. So, we were glad to have these past two months with him, and certainly the past 13 years.

Callie - we'll miss you...