2 years ago, my first ever cat, Ash, died. I heard this from my mum.....he still lived in my home town (Nairn) with her, because I left home to go to uni in 1998, and of course he couldn't come. He was my little angel, and I missed him terribly. He was one-in-a-million - used to come on walks with me, sleep in my bed, walk me to school - everything. He sat beside me when I studied for my exams, and shared my ice-cream when I got my results....For the first two years I came home over summer, to be with my boy.
Sadly, in 3rd and 4th year I couldn't come home, and Ash and I missed each other. Mum did her best, but she was a dog person, and ash was a one-person cat. Finally, he decided to go and live with the little old lady down the hill, who had recently lost her cat. At first this seemed good for everyone - Ash got company, she got a furbaby, and he still visited mum.
One week I was home for a visit, and Ash came home too. But all was not well. He was REALLY ill - in pain and weeing blood, and very overweight. I rushed him to the vet. I was horrified to discover that he had salt crystals in his bladder, and some kidney damage - he was only 8 years old!
I rang the old lady to tell her, only to discover she had been feeding him tinned tuna, in brine!
I tried to explain that, while I was happy for him to be with her, he would need to be fed an appropriate diet and looked after properly both for his own health, and so that she could spend many years to come with him as a healthy, happy cat. She was very stand-offish, but I though she got the message.
Soon after, he stopped visiting mum. We didn't hear much for a while, until the vet contacted us to give the go-ahead for treatment for kidney damage and bladder stones (he was still registered as our cat) - AGAIN. This happened two more times, each time my mum visited the old lady to try to reason with her, to no avail. She even tried to get Ash back, but he was mysteriously absent and difficult to locate each time.
Finally, two years ago, we were notifed that Ash had died. He would have been 12.
I was so sad - my first cat was gone, not just staying someplace else, happy and loved, but gone. I can't help but feel that we failed him, by leaving him with someone how was killing him with kindness. I guess I was naive - I assumed that any true animal lover would want their pet to be as healthy as possible, and to live a long life. But more than anything, I am so angry at that old lady - she knew what she was doing was making him sick - the vet told her as much, and so did we. We even offered to buy the catfood for her, if she couldn't afford it, but she refused.
Every other pet I have ever had, of various species, have always lived to extreme (and remarkably healthy) old age - I wanted the same for my beautiful boy, Ash.
Why can't some people see that being a responsible and loving pet owner is about more than treats and food? I miss my boy, and hope that he is back to his healthy, happy self, and that when we meet again at Rainbow bridge, he can forgive me, and will allow me to make it up to him.
At least I can be certain that my current furbabies get the best nutrition, preventative medical care, quality attention, love, affection and respect possible - I have sworn never to fail them, or give up on them, and to always put their health, happiness and welfare beyond any other concerns.
I hope Ash would be proud to know that, though I do these things for their own sake, it is also in honour of his memory. I love you still, my little prince, and will never forget you.
