goodnight, Harry.

Harry, my adopted outdoors cat with FeLV, had to be put down. He was a
wonderful cat, and whomever let him away from home is a real stinker.
He came to me already pretty old (per vet, minimum of eight years
old), FeLV-positive, and I kept him alive for three years and six
months, almost to the day. He showed up at my house just a day or so
after I found Squooshable, and I decided to not let him indoors until
he was tested for FeLV/FIV because of baby Squooshable, as well as my
other cats. By the time I got him tested (Squoosh's ear infection had
to come first), he'd made my front courtyard area his home, and since
he was away from other cats (both in my house and the neighbourhood),
I saw no reason to change that. I could find nowhere to re-home him,
and so I let him stay where he was, moving him into my garage (where
cats don't go) when the weather was too bad (my front door and
courtyard area is not open to the lawn and road, has covered parts,
and is a pretty roomy area; it's not like he was 100% out-of-doors,
and I brought him in during cat-questionable weather, like temps of 50
and below, and moderate-to-heavy storms). Harry had a nice life in my
courtyard; he was on antibiotics a few times, but was largely
ok-looking (for a leukemia-positive cat), and he mostly played and
sunned himself, and was doing pretty well until he figured out that I
was sneaking Benadryl into his Pill Pocket treats. After that, he
carried a sniffle with him, but was largely ok until today, when he
seemed to nosedive. I was at work when I got a text from a friend who
I'd asked to drop off some things at my house that said 'ur cat rly
bad, wht u wnt me 2do?'. I didn't know which cat (please don't type
emergencies in textspeak, kids), so I replied, 'vet xxx at yyy, now
now now', and tried to get everyone settled so I could leave
(naturally, this has to happen when I am doing a presentation). I sent
'which cat?' about four times before I got the answer 'wht n grey
1????'...which could only be Harry. I knew he had his hands full, so
as I left I sent, 'tell vet to do what's best asap, his call, i'm on
my way'. No more than ten minutes later, my phone chirped with the
message, 'tod 7:48'.

Ok, for personal edification, telling someone their cat just died by
text message is a little, ummm...

Wow; I am having a really hard time saying anything nice, so...

When I got there, I was told that Harry had been semi-conscious (for
the record, he'd appeared ok yesterday morning, and I'd planned on
taking him to my regular vet on Saturday about the sniffles getting
worse again), but seemed fairly happy; he had been purring after some
pain meds that he'd been given because palpating some mass in his
tummy seemed to hurt him. Since I'd said to do what's best (and my
friend told them I was stuck at work, *not* that I was on my way),
they had a tech hold and pet him until he started purring again and
seemed happy after the painkiller, then they euthanised him because Dr
Vet felt pretty certain the abdominal mass was probably cancerous, and
that Harry'd lost more weight than he may have appeared because the
abdominal mass was puffing him out a little to look almost normal, and
with FeLV there was no point in trying to forestall the inevitable and
putting the little guy through a surgery just to have to recover
(maybe) and then die anyway of FeLV or more tumours.

I am saddened that I did not get to say goodbye to Harry, but I guess
this was for the best in the end. I was kicking myself for not
noticing, and Dr Vet gave me the 'cats hide their illnesses' pep talk.
It sounds and feels like pablum, but I guess so. I really did try to
keep a good eye on him.

Probably Harry would have been better off with someone else,
but...there wasn't anyone. Even the FeLV-haven homes I kept hearing
about via the rescue people I know ended up being exaggerations, if
not absolute fiction. As for me, I did the best I could and still hold
down 2.5 jobs, school, and my own cats; I am sorry if it was not
enough, because Harry was a good cat. I am going to miss him. He was
so sweet, and had big, pretty snow-shoe sized paws.