The title says it all. Well, not everything, but what I’m feeling right now.

At far as I know, my brother’s cat, Scottie, is dead now. He was diagnosed with feline leukemia a few months ago, and he was doing fine so we expected that he’d be able to live with it and have a few good years of life. Not the case, because after he got fixed he started losing weight. He just kept losing more and more weight. At first he was losing weight, drinking a lot and not eating, so we thought that was it. But then he started to drink a bit less, more closely to normal amounts, and he was a pig, so I had hopes he was getting better. But he never gained any weight. Yesterday, I guess two days ago now, he stopped eating. When I was over at the house he just laid on the table, moving from side to side every now and then. I went over there today because nobody was home and I didn’t want him to be there by himself, in case he did finally die. He didn’t do anything today, he just laid on the bathroom floor. He wasn’t even sleeping, I think he might have been in too much pain to sleep. His brother, Lancelot, who somehow didn’t get FeLV, was laying by him most of the day. Then tonight my dad got my brother’s permission and gave Scottie a dose of insulin, so instead of going through the pain he’d fall into a coma and die peacefully.

The reason I say I’m angry at my mom is because she didn’t want to. My brother said yesterday he thought it best to have him put down, but my mom said to just let him die in his home. It would be nice for him if he wasn’t just laying there awake, his body in pain from starvation and who knows what else. So I’m happy that he’s at peace now, although I’m sad he’s gone. He didn’t even make it to a year old, so close, he was born the beginning of August. But I’d like to think that he had a good life for the short time he was alive, that freakishly tall little bishie cat (I find it funny I always called him a bishie cat in front of my brother, yet he had no clue what it meant. It was true though).

But we still have Lancelot in the house as a memory of him, and a relative has his other two siblings who are still alive. I’m not really sure how my brother is doing. He seemed fine, but I don’t see how, this is his third cat he’s lost. The first was Tuffy a few years ago who he had for about five years, who was being treated for failing kidneys and ended up having an allergic reaction to the IV. Then there was Pablo in December who died from feline infection peritonitis at seven months old, a bit late than my kitten and his sister Princess Peach, although I don’t think he ever grew very attached to Pablo, and now Scottie. He really did love Scottie, and that cat was ridiculously attached to him. I just hope everything goes well with TK, and that he lives for 15+ years. Although I also hope that for my little Izumi, and for Rosco that he lives to be twenty or older.