Today we are saying goodbye to our Mushu. He is 8 years old, and is the silkiest, softest, most loving cat I've ever had. He is also the loudest cat, especially when walking. No, seriously - you can hear him walking around in the living room when we are in the basement. Stealth is not one of his strong suits. We got Mushu in August 2004 when he was about 12 weeks old. He was a cream kitten, with brown ears and raccoon eyes. It is amazing to see how much his colouring changed in his first couple of months. Because of a comment on another blog post, we learned that somewhere in his family tree there are Snowshoe siamese genes.
Over the past couple weeks has become jaundiced and has lost quite a bit of weight and is now all bone when you pet him. After a few trips to the vets, and various tests, the vet has said that he thinks that Mushu has a tumor that is stopping him from eating, and is wreaking havok on his body. This is always one of those decision that is so hard to make. He seems like he is doing OK - but I know that he isn't. So on Friday we decided that it was time to end Mushu's suffering, and we are taking him in today. We gave ourselves a few days to say goodbye.
The hard part of all this is explaining it to the girls. Eowyn is very upset about it, and has been asking lots and lots of questions about death. She spent some time last night and this morning just sitting beside him, and petting him. I think it's tough for her because she is such an emotional girl, and because he is just a few months younger than she is.
Kiera isn't phased at all by this - just focusing on now we will only have 2 cats, and that the girls will still rule the house. She is too young, I think, to be asking the tough questions that Eowyn is. It is also just another example of how different my two girls are.
I just hope Mango doesn't miss him too much, but I know that I will...