June 1998 - July 24th 2014
Bosun, a dear member of the family, passed away last week. His health was steadily decreasing, he wasn’t eating as much as he used to and he wasn’t drinking enough either.
My sister and I took him to the vet last Wednesday, and he hold us how Bosun was very dehydrated. He gave us a syringe and told us to have him drink water from it.
We took him back to my parents house, where he’s lived nearly his whole life, and started watering him. He seemed ok that evening, a little wobbly on his paws and he wanted to lie down a lot, but he seemed ok.
I had work in the morning so I had to go home, but I told my sister if Bosun did pass away to wait till I finished work. I knew no one at my job would understand why I was crying so hard over a cat.
My sister stayed up with him all night, she was too afraid to sleep. She had a fan for him, as the weather was brutally hot, and she kept giving him water and took him outside in case he needed to pee.
The next day Bosun just got worse. He wasn’t drinking from the syringe anymore, and his legs wouldn’t support him. By the afternoon he’d started to meow loudly, something he never used to do, and she made an appointment with the vet.
Seeing as I was in work, my sister called my grandparents to help. They put Bosun is his carry cage, where he was still meowing and his head was lolling all over the place. My gran drove them to the vet, while my grandad stayed behind with a shovel to dig a grave. Just incase.
They were at the vet for an HOUR! The waiting room was full, and hot, and Bosun was meowing pitifully and my sister was starting to cry because of how distressed Bosun was. People in the waiting room were very sympathetic, but not enough to let her first.
Finally after an hour, someone asked at the reception if a vet could come and see Bosun as my sister was in tears. Suddenly Bosun started twitching as if he was having a stroke, my sister didn’t know what to do. Then his pupils expanded widely and he stoppped moving. And that’s when the vet came through and said he was ready to see Bosun.
It was clearly too late. Bosun has passed away, in a vet waiting room in a small cage. My sister felt really bad, wishing to have kept him at home so he could have died in familiar surroundings. The vet checked for a pulse for 2 minutes but there was none, I’m glad they did this as the thought of accidently burying him alive was too much of a horrible thought.
They were nice enough to wrap him up though, and when my sister and gran got home my, grandad had dug a grave in the front garden for him. They put his body in an old pillowcase before laying him down to rest.
I found out on Friday morning, and drove straight to my parents to see his grave and hear what happened.
The other family cat, Harry, doesn’t seem to know what’s happened. Though he is 17, and does seem to forget when he’s eaten and such. But they both were the best of friends, and seeing Harry alone is so strange.
I will really miss Bosun, he was a wonderfully fat and fluffy ball of cutness. At least he had a good long life, he deserved it.
The family cat, Bosun died last week, at the grand old age of 16. His last hour wasn’t peacful, but he had a good long life. He did well to survive so long. It’ll be strange not having him walk up to my car when I visit my parents, but I’ll never forget him. RIP floofles.