...our cat died. We bought Tigger from a Burmese breeder for our son's 5th birthday. He had nagged us for a whole year, pretty impressive persistence from a 4 year old!
Hubby is more of a dog person really so he wasn't all that excited by the idea, then he said we could get a cat, as long as it wasn't a plain old moggy. So we researched and decided a Burmese would suit us best.
Tigger thought he was part dog I'm sure, he would talk his head off as soon as we walked in the door. He would follow us around the place - this was his undoing.
Tigger didn't like to be cold, so he would jump up next to you and nip at your sleeve as if to pull it over himself....usually he got skin!
One night he had been playing leapfrog on Hubby and my heads, Hubby had enough and grabbed Tigger to throw him off the bed, Tigger held on for dear life, to MY FOREHEAD!
Tigger was a pretty independant sort of a cat but he would let you know when his needs weren't being met...usually at 2.00am howling at you cos his food bowl was empty.
Hubby reckoned Tigger had well and truly used up his nine lives. The breeder made us promise that Tigger would be an inside cat you see, this was never.ever.going.to.happen! From the minute we got him home and he swiped the dog on the nose for looking at him funny he was the boss, and he was GOING OUTSIDE! That little ball of fluff would hide and race for the door as soon as it was opened. He started shredding all the screens, so we let him outside on a cat leash - yeah right. Who's stupid idea was that invention?
Tigger just laid on the ground like a 10 tonne weight refusing to move. Leash came off.
We didn't let him out at night tho....until it was a full moon, and I was tired from being up with Middle as a baby, and to my squinty tired eyes it certainly looked bright enough outside to be early morning, sure miaowy boy, you can go out now.
Yeah, it was about 2.30am...he dragged himself onto the deck about 7.00am with his back leg invisible to me, tucked up against his belly, much pitiful miaowing - teh vet said a dog had grabbed him and shaken him, shattering his femur - so he got pinned, had one leg 1cm shorter than the other...and recovered beautifully...he jumped onto our bed his first night home, whilst still pinned. Much better patient than I have ever been.
Then he discovered the joy of snakes! First morning he was laying flat out next to a coiled snake in the driveway - much poking of snake from a distance proved that snake was dead...or really fast asleep. Tigger lifted his very sleepy head....rush to vet, it's a whip snake, we'll monitor him for 24 hours but he'll mostly just swell up and build immunity to the bite - not very poisonous anyway.
Wish the vet hadn't told him that, he got quite partial to fighting with whip snakes and would wander inside with a massively swollen foot or face. Such a bloke.
Tigger has been pretty well behaved the last few years, then Tuesday night he thought it would be a good idea to follow my friend and I up the road. I told him to go home. I didn't however just pick him up and pop him back in the house did I. Cos I was running late for Zumba. Selfish.
My friend figured out what the noise was before I did. I heard a bang and a car stop just behind us. I thought, oh no, that poor girls car has broken down. My friend had such a horror filled look on her face - she'd been having a chat with Tigger just before we left, he liked a good chat.
I wondered why she was looking at me that way? I looked back over my shoulder and saw a little shape flopping in the road.
I looked back at my friend.
'Oh shit, it's Tigger'
I ran.
I scooped him out of the road.
And ran.
'NEV'
And yelled.
The poor girl who hit him left her car in the middle of the road, keys and wallet sitting there. She brought her phone in with her. She was sobbing. She had the emergency vet number in her phone. She has two cats, she was devestated.
Tigger started gurgling.
We got him to the vet, I didn't stop to let the kids talk to him. I didn't really think he wouldn't be coming home. There was no blood, no obvious breaks.
Blood in his lungs. $600 to $800 minimum. Fix our boy.
Fill in a form and just leave, we'll get on with it.
Really. Just leave. Just like that?
We did. We acted calm for the kids, we finished dinner. My friend had stayed and bathed and fed Middle and Youngest.
The vet rang at 11.00pm, he was quite optimistic. No breaks, just the blood in his lungs. No distressed breathing, wanting to keep him calm cos stressing will affect his ability to breathe. Blood should start reabsorbing.
The vet rang at 7.00am. Still going. Would have liked to have seen some improvement, some trying to move about. Will talk to other vets at 8.00am.
I continue the morning routines, I do the school run.
Hubby walks up the driveway to meet me, Tigger has just died. 'Did he really?' Yeah, cos that would have been a really good joke. What did I think he was going to say?
I cried, a lot. In the end it was a sudden deterioration, I hope he didn't suffer too much. I feel bad for leaving him there. He hated going to the vets. Hated it.
Tigger wouldn't even go to a cattery, we left him for nearly a week once, he didn't eat the whole time. Just sat in a tunnel growling at everyone and everything.
We didn't make him go again.
I brought him home. He's buried in our garden under a white sparkly rock. Eldest cried. He'd been really quiet, I wasn't really sure how he felt.
I'm so sorry Tigger that I didn't just stop and pick you up, scruff your head and put you back in the house. So sorry.
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