This page is in dedication to my first pet, Peabody.
On November 16, 2007 he was tested before a teeth cleaning only to find his kidneys were in bad shape. He stayed at the veterinary clinic over a weekend for stabilization. After that he had to take medications and change his diet. A week later his kidneys were worse. The vet said at worse he had two weeks, at best two years.
December 13, he was tested again. His kidneys weren't at their best, but they were better than last time. It had brightened my spirits some. He had survived to my birthday and I hoped he'd survive to Christmas.
To my fortune he did. I spent Christmas with him. Before we opened gifts I had been laying on my parents' bed with him. I was grateful for that and for my last hope was for him to make it to his tenth birthday.
He made it through January fine, but February brought more bad news. On the fourth my mom made an appointment to have tests run on him. He was worse than before. He was given an even stricter diet, would go on three times a week for treatments and at best last a few months. Again I prayed he'd at least live to his tenth birthday.
In the beginning of March his treatments were lessened to twice a week instead of three. April was a relatively peaceful month. To my joy he had made it to his tenth birthday. Such happiness was not to last, however.
After a good long fight, Peabody began to dwindle. The first weekend in May he began hiding under my parents' bed. He slowly stopped eating, drinking and passing fluids. His next appointment was to be on the coming Tuesday. My mother called in that morning to reschedule the appointment to an earlier hour. My father took him in during the morning. He stayed at the clinic for the rest of the day.
My mother came home early that afternoon. I was already sitting down. I asked how my cat was. She told me. His kidneys completely shut down on him. It was then I had to make the decision on whether to force him through intensive care that was a fifty-fifty chance and would only lead to a short time alive... or let him go as peacefully as possible. It wasn't that tough a decision as some would think.
It was his time. He was miserable. I just wanted him to be happy and feeling better. I got my two wishes. I was able to spend one more Christmas with him and got to see him reach his tenth birthday. Now... he needed to go on.
I told my mother to take me to him. We both cried on the way there and cried as we arrived. We both were left alone with him. He was so miserable. He couldn't even sit down. We cried and petted him. We hugged and held him.
The doctor finally showed up and asked my decision. My mom had to speak for me. We were asked if we wished to stay as they put him to sleep... I fear I didn't have the will. My mom thought he would rather us remember him as he was right then... alive. We left him then. My last vision of him was in the doctor's arms as we left the room.
That day was May 6, 2008.