On friday night I got home at about 6.15pm. I looked for Pumpkin because he is normally waiting for me, but I found him in the kitchen which I thought was odd and not really moving. I fed Menu and put the oven on and then noticed he really wasn't moving about, not resting and I thought he looked skinny and distressed. I picked him up and took him into the living room on the carpet and had a better look. He really looked like he was panting and again like his body was sucked in. He wasn't panting through his mouth, but his diaphram (if that is correct) was moving rapidly, I immediately phoned the vet and taxi and rushed him there within about 10 minutes. The vet took one look at him and said your cat is really ill, he could die. I don't understand why I didn't look in his mouth and whether the stress of the car journey made him worse. He was put on oxygen and given some medication. I was told he probably could have died in the taxi and could not really make a journey to the all night vet. I left him there because my vet wanted to treat him, but my lovely vet said he would take him to the all night vet if necessary as he could not stay up all night if needed. I have been trying hard to think of anything that would indicate something wrong in the week but I cannot think of a thing. But it was a busy week and I regret being really distracted. I feel so guilty, because he relied on me. I feel that I failed him. I feel so guilty. The vet thinks possibly a massive asthma attack. He has never had asthma. I loved him and he was my best little furry friend. We lost Mushroom a few months ago and he was really stressed and searched for her for about a week, but he did show signs of stress after, but this was getting better. I don't know if this contributed. His heart was apparently fine and circulation. I am in shock. I want to turn back time.
Pumpkin was a very funny cat and I swear he used to wag his tail when he was happy. I am also convinced he used to try really hard to communicate with me, staring at me to get me to do something and putting his paw on me to indicate if he wanted something. We had a very strong connection. He was very attached to me and would follow me from room to room, being happy to be near. Although he had access to the garden etc, he only ever stayed close to the house and never wandered. He would keep an eye on me and although I never let him out in the front, he would follow me to the front door if I put the rubbish out and peer anxiously round the door at me. He also liked to make himself comfortable and would choose to lie on my handbags or rucksack if they were available. He also loved cardboard boxes and loved to curl up in them, or try really hard to squeeze in even if they were far too small. He had the kindest, sweetest nature, not a cross bone in his body and so gentle and sensitive. He had the largest, most ridiculous paws and I loved them. He was also eccentric in some ways, preferring dry food only and always had to have a full saucer of biscuits or he would worry and I had to make sure I kept an eye on this. He would only eat out of flat saucers and didn't like bowls. He was my first thought when I arrived home from work etc, where is he, how is he? How can I overcome the loss, I cannot imagine as I have a huge Pumpkin shaped hole in my life.
