On 9th April 2004, Good Friday, at 3 o'clock our oldest furry child Benoît left this world. We had discovered him in severe insulin shock on Thursday morning. He was much better after getting the insulin and we thought he would come back. He suffered a major setback in the early evening though, and was on oxygen for most of Thursday night/Friday morning. When we visited him on Friday, we saw that he was completely blind and still having the difficulty breathing. He would not have recovered his sight, nor understood the 2 shots and constant blood monitoring. (Those of you who know the trouble we had giving him pills and ear drops know what we mean. That stuff was really offended his dignity.) So we made the decision to euthanize him. We would not have wanted him to live as he was. We hope he is with my mother.
As I was writing this, I looked down and expected Benoît to be
sleeping under the desk where he invariably was when either of us was
at the computer. Benoit was almost 16 years old and had been with us
since he was 8. He had pale green eyes and was completely black except
for a white spot on his tummy. He was the quietest and the best-natured
of our cats, always the one to greet us at the door. Because of his
previous people, he was never comfortable with being held or petted;
indeed he cowered when petted at first. Later he tolerated it. He liked
people food (especially butter on toast), sleeping on clean laundry,
and chasing the feather-on-a-stick. We miss him horribly.
