This afternoon my sweet kitty Whiskey ended his time on our world. The vet confirmed what we had suspected, that his kidneys had failed him. He was very weak, but fortunately he did not seem to be in any pain. He went peacefully at home with me and D. by his side. We have a wonderful vet, who came to our house to help us out.
Whiskey came into my life when I was 19. I found him at the local Humane Society in a cage full with about 30 cats. I was looking for a kitty that wasn’t overly affectionate, yet friendly. While the majority of the cats were crawling all over me, I looked up to see a cute little tiger kitty sitting on a cat tree looking down at me. I unearthed myself from the pile of kitties and picked up the little guy. He was about 3 months old, and very laid back. I held him and he purred. I put him back down and he just sat there looking at me. I thought “What a nice mellow kitty. I’ll take him!”. Little did I know, Whiskey was a very sick little kitty with worms. Once I got him fixed up, he showed me just the little hellion that he was. He loved to get into everything, and had more brains than any kitty should ever have.
Despite his crazy ways, I just adored him. To me, he was just like having a kid, and I learned how to “Whiskey proof” my house very quickly. He was my little partner in crime. In college, I would give my roommate the “Whiskey speech” before allowing anyone to move in. It took a patient, tolerant person to live with my little “devil spawn” (as my sister calls him).
Unlike most kitties, he loved exploring new things. This kitty had no fear. He loved riding in the car and looking out the windows. I once found him in the basement of my fathers store after he had snuck out our front door. He was covered in cobwebs and SO proud of himself for finding this “new place”. He was always the king kitty of the house, as well as the nurse mother to any new kitties that came along, sometimes literally.
Of course, with all his crazy antics also came some obstacles. When he was 5, he swallowed a penny that had to be surgically removed. He had a nasty habit of eating things he shouldn’t. I could go on and on about the things that have passed through this kitty, but I digress…
When Whiskey was 13, he was diagnosed hyperthyroid, which we got him radiation treatment that fortunately cured him. However, after that, he was never quite his crazy “get into everything” self. He settled down into more of a lap cat, wanting lots of snuggles. The other kitties still adored him, and he often found himself squished with kitties on all sides.
About a year ago, he had a seizure which prompted an emergency trip to the vet. We learn then that his kidneys were starting to be a problem, and it would only be a matter of time as they gave out. All we could do was watch his diet and slow down the process. He was in good spirits until the beginning of the week, when things suddenly took a turn for the worse. He was put to rest at 3pm this afternoon. He was 18 years, 2 months old.
We love you Whiskey, you will never be forgotten…