RIP Vash - A Pet Lover's Thread

[Unspoken]

My cat had a litter of kittens recently. At first, she had two born. Then the next day, that two turned into six. We moved the six up from under our pool deck and onto the porch in a barrel away from the cold of fall. A couple of days later, when looking at the litter, one was found almost dead. We took care of it, but there was nothing we could do. It died on us.

Then, the rest kept dieing. We discovered that the mother cat was orphaning her kittens because she didn't have enough milk to feed them. She also had a cold, so she wouldn't get near the kittens.

One afternoon, I went out to the barrel to check on the last ones, and all were dead. Except one. A black and grey tiger kitten was crawling around the barrel, letting out a meow every once in a while. I gave it some warm milk, but I had to leave, so I called my mom and told her to get home and take care of it.

We'd been nursing the kitten inside our home since then, and we never thought of a name for him. My mom asked me what I wanted to name him, but nothing came to mind. It was in a conversation with Chris (koten or Vlad to some of you) that we came up with Vash, obviously taking a cue from Trigun's "Vash the Stampede."

http://img369.imageshack.us/img369/2066/sany0002lm0.th.jpg (http://img369.imageshack.us/my.php?image=sany0002lm0.jpg)

Little Vash after almost two weeks old.

Recently, we'd been letting him have "visiting rights" with his mother, and we'd let them play, and she'd try to nurse him. After a while of this, though, along with us nursing him with artificial breastmilk for cats, Vash had become quieter and more still. The other night, he wouldn't move almost at all, so we had his mom come in and lick him and try to feed him again, but he wouldn't feed from her.

Just about ten minutes ago, my mom came upstairs with Vash's still body in a sock, crying.


I try not to get close to animals anymore. All the ones I really got close to would always die earlier than the rest, it seemed. I remember one of my favorite cats getting hit by a car, and my parents made me dig his grave. Then my niece insisted that we pray for him, so she recited a little prayer poem you'd say before eating a meal. This was the only time I ever wanted to hit my niece, and with the shovel in my hand, I almost did.

I'd thought Vash was going to be different. I actually felt a bit more human when I would hold him or let him climb up my shirt and he'd try to climb my face (which fucking hurt). It was the only real emotion I've felt for quite a while now. When my mom came to my room a while ago, my heart sank because I knew before she even got to the door what happened.



I don't know if I made this topic just because I haven't made a topic recently or if I just needed to talk about it. Either way, I'll probably still be fucking depressed about this for a while.



Now to keep this thread with an actual topic, post your dearly loved pet stories here. Doesn't matter if the pet's dead or if it's sitting on your lap right now. Pictures are always welcome.

[Travis]

My last dog broke his spine when he was playing fetch with my dad. I was at school but when my mom called and told me she said she'd never seen my dad cry that hard in her life. I felt really bad because it was a great dog and my dad spent every second he was home with him for 9 years.

[Mary]

This thread depresses me. I get more upset about animals's deaths than I do human's a lot. When my dog and cat both died I was depressed for several weeks after. I know it sounds a little crazy, but it's just so easy to get attached to cute, little furry animals.

[LaLiLuLeLo]

;_;

[Gummy]

Death of a pet sucks. =[

[HPK]

I have always grown up around pets. When I was younger, I had a cat named Gogo (think Tiny Toons) and a few weeks later, we got one of his brothers which I named Furrball (again, Tiny Toons). I was 8 when we got the cats. Gogo was the friendly and playful cat, who always loved attention. He hardly ever meowed, but when he did it was a very soft "mew," that sounded kind of pitiful. Furrball was a lot more shy, only enjoying the company of my mother and myself. When other people were around, he'd go into hiding. Gogo would also torment Furrball.
After 4 years, Gogo died a rather gruesome death. He didn't get attacked by another animal or ran over, or anything along those lines. He was actually sick but we didn't really notice. After a while, I noticed he had a bit of trouble breathing. I also reallyed noticed something was wrong when he didn't chase after the bouncy balls I was throwing around (and he loved bouncy balls, like I had to hide them from him all the time).
I am waken up at 2 in the morning to be told my cat died. From what I was told, Gogo was throwing up blood and tossing himself around the house as if he had little control over his body. He was running into things. My mom was trying to call a vet, but she couldn't do anything. A lack of money and lack of time meant that Gogo was going to die. He was meowing a lot, I guess. I guess he died looking right into my mom's eyes. The entire time, Furrball was following him.
After that, Furrball changed. He became a bit more "social." That was until my mom got a dog and another cat. Furrball then went back into hiding but he was quite fond of being around me. He would always come to me for attention and he was always sleeping in my room. I tend to sleep with my door closed (it blocked the noises I didn't want to hear...), but every morning when that door opened, Furrball would run into my room to see me, and go to sleep.
I moved out of my mom's a good three years ago and I only see Furrball every-so-often. He looks like he has aged a lot, mostly because of the other cat and the dog. He also feels extremely skinny which concerns me. He has actually stopped moving around the house since the other cat (Butterscotch) is a fucking asshole that never got de-clawed, so Furrball only lives around his food bowl, water bowl, and the litterbox.

You know, recalling my cats actually made me a little sad. I miss them a lot.

Another animal I should probably talk about is the dog mentioned above. The story behind him is that my mother and her then-boyfriend (ex-husband) decided that after moving in together in a tiny place in the middle of the ghetto, it would be a very good idea to purchase a dog from the humane society. I opposed the idea since 1) We didn't have room, inside or outside, for a dog 2) We lived in a shitty neighborhood and 3) The reason we moved into that crappy, tiny place was to save money to get into an actual house. Dogs costs money.
Well, of course, my opinion was ignored because they were retarded as a couple. We go to the humane society and we all see this siberian husky sitting in along the wall. He won't go near us. Apparently when the douchebag and I walked away from him, the husky walked towards my mother. His name was Yukon. At the time, he was 10 months old and was found roaming the streets.
My mom decided he was the right dog for our "family." From the get-go, I didn't like him, but he was a pretty hyperactive and friendly dog, and relatively big for a puppy. He also was pre-trained. He knew how to sit, lay down, shake, and understood the concept of "going outside" by the mere mention of it.
He also loved to chase cats. Furrball wasn't pleased with him so Furrball got to live in my room for the time we lived there. Yukon was kind of crazy and he never quite rubbed off on me.
Yukon loved me to all hell, though. He was always by me when I was in the living room. He was always wanting to play with me. Whenever my mom and the douchebag got into arguments (which increased and escalated in scale over the years), Yukon would always hide in my room. If I were home, I usually kicked him out since I didn't want to hear anything being said.
Poor Yukon....he had it rough after the divorce. My mother had to sell the house, and Yukon had to split ways from her. She wanted someone she knew and could trust to take him and my girlfriend (with her roomates' approval) took Yukon under her wing. He didn't like it at first and I'm pretty sure he never adjusted to it entirely. After being split from my mom, he never seemed the same. I don't think he actually recognized me after I moved out either.
Yukon didn't stay with my girlfriend for long since the roommate who bought the house was super pissed that he shit in the house while she was spending the night at my place. He told her she had a month to get rid of her things. She moved out and Yukon's situation got rough. My mom and my girlfriend tried finding a new potential owner, but it never happened. My girlfriend went to pick up Yukon one day and he was gone. Her roommate claimed she "abandoned" him and he took Yukon to the humane society, back to where we first saw him.
The humane society here likes to put dogs to sleep after a short time to keep empty space for new strays and stuff, so obviously we weren't going to have that. My girlfriend knows someone who works at the humane society and he helped her safely get rid of Yukon. Yukon ended up going to a siberian husky rescue shelter, where he would be safe from being "put asleep" and would go to a nice family.
After I found out he was gone, I cried. I actually felt like shit for the way I treated him when I was around him. Sure, I gave him attention and all that fun stuff, but I felt I could've been...nicer. He may have ben just a dog, but during one of my shittiest moments in my life, Yukon still adored me. I didn't appreciate it then, but I do now.
I kept track to see if he had been adopted off yet, and after a few months I noticed his information was removed from the website. He wasn't dead, from what I saw, so chances are he is with a new family where he will, hopefully, enjoy the rest of his days. However, I still don't think he will be same after all that happened.

Wow, I typed a lot. But what can I say? I love pets.

[Gummy]

wow.
I thought it was some kind of long quote from a site.


I don't really cry when my pets die, but I get extremely sad and miss them.
Just no tear.

As for my girlfriend, oh man, I feel bad because she would cry a lot where I don't know what's she saying.

[HPK]

^I cried over Yukon for a little bit, but Gogo? I missed three days of school because of how sad I was. I had a small "shrine" dedicated to him for a while. He was beyond awesome.

This makes me want to find pictures of him so I can scan 'em and show 'em off, but all of those photos are with my mom so I won't even bother.

[seahorse]

i hope our cats never die

[Gummy]

they have so may lives.
just make sure they stay out of the streets.

[LiquidEagle]

I remember staying home from school 6 years ago so I could spend the day with my dog Bubba before we put him down, I felt horrible even though he lived for 13 years, he made it pretty far. He was my dog from Kindergarten to Senior year of high school, so it was really weird to not be able to come home to him from school...

[Black Dragon37]

I've never understood why women love cats.

Cats are independent. Cats don't listen. Cats don't come in when you call and cats like to stay out all night. When they are at home, cats like to be left alone to sleep.

In other words, every quality that women hate in a man, they love in a cat...!

[Gummy]

^not my girl's cat.
That cat loves to follow my girl and sleep on her boobs.

Maybe it's me if I was a cat.

[Adrian Santiago]

My puppy, T-Bone died this month. He was "Best Dog in the World" undefeated for 13 consecutive years... but old age, along with Muscular Atrophy in his hind legs, arthritis and back/hip pain kind of forced me to go against the "He could be fine if we keep him doped up another couple of years" fairy tale I wanted to tell myself.

When it went down, I was in the room with him. I held his head in my arms... not forcefully, y'know? Like any of the hugs I gave him throughout his life.

When he died it really screwed me up... I'm still coming off the initial shock of it, but when it rains I still find myself going downstairs to let him inside. At night when I come home, I still look across the house towards the back door to see if he's standing there looking inside for me.

Ah hell. Here I go again (cry break).

EDIT: Also, picture of him that I put up on my front page. http://www.projectblack.com/images/tbone-big.jpg

[Hisham]

I've never understood why women love cats.

Cats are independent. Cats don't listen. Cats don't come in when you call and cats like to stay out all night. When they are at home, cats like to be left alone to sleep.

In other words, every quality that women hate in a man, they love in a cat...!

This is such a common misconception about cats. They are more independant than dogs, but if they have been raised well, they will come to you when you arive at home and show you affection when you are sitting down (by curling up in your lap and such).

Anyways, this isn't the thread for that.

I am sorry for your loss Unspoken. I never really had any pets (mom doesn't like animals) but I did use to always hang around my friends house who had 2 cats. They were very gentle and pretty loving cats from what I remember. Too bad I moved away from that area and lost touch with my friend.