As I mentioned in some of my posts, Frankie had been having some health problems. He had hyperthyroid, kidney disease, and most likely lymphoma. We weren’t pursuing aggressive treatment and chose to focus on his quality of life.
He was losing weight but still eating, and he didn’t seem
to be in pain. We took him for thyroid
testing on December 27th, and his weight was down a little, but the
bloodwork showed that the thyroid medication was helping.
At around 1:00 pm on January 5th, when I was
working from home, Frankie collapsed in the living room. He had eaten his breakfast that morning, had
been in a chair looking out the window, then went and spent some time in their
little cardboard scratch house. He came
out of the house and just collapsed.
I picked him up, and he was limp. He was breathing, but he was limp. I called Nick and the vet’s office. Dr. D isn’t in the office on Fridays, and the
vet who was covering her (that I’m not overly fond of anyway) was out of the
office, so they told us to go to the emergency vet. We called to say we were on the way and
rushed to the emergency vet.
I held Frankie, wrapped in one of his favorite blankets,
and Nick and I both talked to him and told him what a good cat he was and how
much we loved him.
Frankie died in my arms as we were handing him to the vet
staff. They took him back, but there was
nothing to be done at that point. It wasn’t
very long before they came into the room and told us he was gone. They were extremely kind and brought him back
into the room and gave us time to be with him before they came in and asked how
we wanted to handle his body.
We’ve opted for cremation with all of our pets, so we knew
we were going that route. We keep
everyone’s ashes together, and there’s some measure of closure when we bring
them home. I really wanted to take
Frankie to Dr. D’s office for that. They’re
wonderful at the emergency vet, but it’s just not the same as at Dr. D’s office
where they knew Frankie and know us.
Nick called and arranged for us to take Frankie to Dr. D's office.
As soon as we walked in with him at Dr. D’s office, I knew
we had made the right decision. They
took him, wrapped in his blanket, and promised to take care of him, and told us
how much they would miss seeing him.
Frankie’s ashes are home now, and we’re slowly adjusting to
our new normal of only having four cats.
My dad said he always thought Frankie was the most
interesting cat we’d ever had, and that was a great way to describe
Frankie.
He was obsessed with hair products, particularly gels and pastes. I don’t use a lot of hair products, and he
was always delighted whenever someone who does came over. He loved sniffing my mom’s hair, he loved his
Aunt Gabby’s hair even more, and his Aunt Amy’s hair was the absolute
best. I had short hair when we got Frankie,
and when he was little, any time someone with long hair came over, he would
always play with their hair.
Frankie never found a box or a bag that he didn’t want to
get in.
He was the smallest kitten we’ve ever had. He was even still fuzzy when we brought him
home.
Frankie was also one of the wildest kittens we’ve ever
had. He’s asleep in most of his kitten
pictures because that was usually the only time we could get a picture of him
that wasn’t blurry.
He only had 14 years, but I think they were good years. At times, I wonder if we should have been
more aggressive in his treatment and maybe had more time, but then I remember
how much he hated the vet and taking medication. I really don’t think he was in pain, even on his
last day. He did things he loved doing
that day. So that makes me think that
maybe we made the right choice, even if it’s the one that ultimately broke our
hearts a little sooner.
