Mi gatito falleció ahora. Fue algo tan inesperado. Tristeza inunda mi corazón.
The cat showed up at my house one day when they boys were having a BBQ outside in the front yard. The cat walked up to them and they fed him beans. He stuck around as another guest. Later that night when I took Ollie out, I saw him sitting on a chair out front so I set out some milk in a bowl. The next day in the morning, he was gone. It wasn't until two days later when I was walking towards the kitchen and the kitty cat is sitting on the sofa, chilling. No one who the cat belonged to or what it was doing here but it stayed.
One day, he came home with his right eye almost shut and his face and head scratched up. I took him to the vet and when the vet asked general questions about the cat, I told her the kitty did not belong to me. She laughed. I paid the bill and came home with the cat. This happened to more times, where he would come home injured and we'd end up at the vet's office. We finally decided to neuter him because according to the vet, this would keep happening again and again as long as he wasn't neutered. She asked me if I wanted him chipped. I said "sure." When I filled out the owner's information, I added my name and gave him the name Gato (because that's what I called him) and I officially became a cat owner that day.
To say that he was not a nice cat was an understatement. He bit, scratched, and wouldn't let himself be pet, unless it was Jorge, of course, the guy that was allergic to cats had the magic key to Gato. I was ok with the gatito not being nice because I didn't like cats anyway so as long as he stayed away from me, we were good.
Eventually, the cat started jumping on my desk when I was working or doing homework. He'd lie across my desktop, right on top of my paperwork, books, calculator, pens, he didn't mind any of it. He's sometimes sit on the printer. He became my companion. He made me happy when I'd see him walk in the room. He was a mean cat but he was also a really good cat as long as you left him alone.
On Thursday, we noticed he was a little sluggish but he was still jumping up to his perch or the dinning room tables. He come in and out of the room. I thought for sure he had fought with a cat when he got out Wednesday night but he didn't have any visible injuries. To his demise, I woke up sick on Friday. I was bed ridden all day and he was perched up on his cat bed by the window. I even got up to open the window for him so he could look outside but he seemed uninterested. I went back to bed and stayed in bed the rest of the day. I was miserable and wasn't paying attention. He left the room at some point and went to sit on one of dinning room chairs. Jorge found him there, no longer breathing. I don't know what happened to my cat but I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for not taking him to the vet on Thursday.
The boys wrapped him up in a blanket, put him in a box, sealed it and buried him out in the back yard. Here I sit looking for a grave marker for my cat, completely heart broken, guilt ridden over something I can no longer change. Rest In Peace, Gatito, I love you.
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