Muschamp Rd

I had to kill our cat today.

Not me personally, though I was worried I would have to last night. I had to take it to the vet to be put down. It has been something which has been discussed for years. Just the other day when I had dinner with both my grandmothers, they both said it was time to have him put down.

Fred was old, so old we don’t remember exactly when he was born. He was born at our Lakes Road house in Duncan. We definitely lived there while I was in middle school, possibly even the last few years of elementary school. Fred was at least 17 maybe closer to twenty.

Fred on the deck

Fred had not been well for years. He developed some growths on his back and one in particular on his tail. They were never going to go away and Fred was never going to get any younger. Sometimes he’d pick or lick at them and sometimes there would be puss or even a little blood. He was a bit sensitive to touch in places and it affected his ability to run and jump but he seemed happy. He ate and he slept. He liked to lay under the wood stove for warmth. There wasn’t much to Fred but skin and bones and bad attitude.

As Fred got older, he got meaner. If you rubbed him the wrong way he would bite or scratch at you. Sometimes for no reason he would claw you, just to let you know he was there. He was definitely senile. He’d claw at the blinds when he wanted out, when he wanted food, whenever he felt like making you get up to see what he wanted.

He didn’t like dogs. He never had a problem with our old dog Ginger, at least not to the point of coming to blows. But as he got older he started to terrorize dogs. It didn’t matter how big they were or how old Fred was if he felt like it, he’d hiss at them, even jump right at them. Lots of dogs in the neighborhood were scared of Fred, Huuna was afraid of Fred.

Fred was infamous, not just for appearing on my blog. This one American tourist came back the next year just to see Fred. He couldn’t believe his big dog was afraid of a little cat. He thought Fred was great.

Not everyone liked Fred, but he had his admirers. He had character. He liked to sit on your lap, or your belly if you were lying down. He liked to have his head scratched. He would purr and purr.

Last night after Rob left, I let Fred in and fed him. I notice he was bleeding. Not just a little but a lot. He had made the growth/sore on his tail worse and worse, and this time there was a lot of blood. I gave him food and I pet him. But he never stopped bleeding, so I called my sister. It is actually her cat and she never answered the phone at 11 pm last night.

Though he seemed fine, with all that blood I put him in the garage. I made sure he had plenty of food and water and put a fresh towel in his bed, but I couldn’t leave him in all night bleeding on everything.

Early the next morning I was awoke by a woodpecker who seems to think that eventually he’ll find food inside the wall of our house. I went outside to scare him off. Fred must have heard that because he came around to that door and began meowing. I wanted to go back to bed but my sister called. She wanted me to let Fred in and comfort him.

So I went and carried him in. There was blood in the garage, on the mat at both the front and back door and Fred was still bleeding. He would let me wipe his tail a bit. He would eat. I put an old blanket on the couch and sat beside him petting him. He purred. I turned on the heat. I even started the fire. Fred was so skinny he had trouble staying warm I think. Fred had a lot of problems.

I phoned my Nan, I phoned my sister again. Fred had been bleeding for about twelve hours by now. They both said to put him down. I phoned my mom in Hawaii. I didn’t want to have to kill her cat while she was away. I told her Fred was bleeding. She asked from where. I said from his tail. She said he’d be fine. My mom curses Fred as much as anyone but she is a softie, most anyone else would have had him put down years ago. I explained he had been bleeding all night, that there was blood all over the place. I’d kept him away from the nicer furnished rooms, but he wasn’t getting better. He just couldn’t leave things alone. He must have been in pain often.

I called my Nan again and together we took him to the vet. Fred was good, I put food in a box and some old rags and he rode in that for a while. Then he got out and explored the car a bit and then sat patiently on the back seat. When we got to my Nan’s house she held him on her lap the rest of the way. I think Fred knew things were not good. He trusted me. When we got to the vet Fred was not the happiest. Another old sick cat came right in after us. My nan said the smell of the place set him off. I tried to comfort him.

I put him on the counter. Sometimes you take a sick or injured animal to the vet and I guess they try to talk you into surgery or treatment. The lady behind the counter never tried that with Fred. She could see how old and frail he was. You could see the growths and where he’d licked himself raw. You could see all the blood.

When you have an animal put down you are given options. You can stay with the animal to the very end. You can take the body away. If you don’t take the body away they will cremate it and then you can have the ashes. I liked Fred as much as anyone but I didn’t want his ashes. It is also easier if you don’t have to stay and watch him die.

He was scared. He was sick. He was old, but he trusted me.

He had a lot of problems. Just last week I was awoken to the sound of him vomiting right beside my bed. Several times I’ve had to clean up fresh warm cat vomit from my mom’s new carpets. He was too sick and old to take care of himself and you can’t watch him and look after him twenty four hours a day.

My Nan has had to put down animals before. Old pets seem to go to her house to die. My dog spent the last of her years on my grandparents’ property. I was in Ottawa when she finally got too old and frail to walk and had to be put down. I never cried when my dad died. But I cried when I learned my dog was dead.

Fred and his gay lover Hobbs

Now I cry all the time.

Life is short and life is hard. You try to do your best. You try to help people when you can. I wish some of my classmates would believe that.

Hobbs sleeping in Fred's box in the sunlight

Fred will be missed. He was a mean old cat, but he was our mean old cat. Hobbs his gay lover who lived up the street will miss him. Hobbs was always around our house, just the other day I caught him sleeping in one of Fred’s favourite spots. Fred was really thin and Hobbs was really fat. Fred scared dogs and people, Hobbs was afraid of everything. They hung out, both in our yard and in the neighbors yard. Our old neighbor even used to let Fred into their house and up on their furniture.

He will be missed.

Cruel to be Kind

Thank You Note from Comox Valley Animal Hospital
Several days later we received a note from the Comox Valley Animal Hospital thankings us for bringing in Fred and ending his suffering. I still feel bad about it, but if you knew someone was suffering everyday why wouldn’t you at least try to help? Why watch someone suffer? Why deliberately hurt someone especially after you know how much they are suffering and have asked for help, for answers, for things to be better? Why?


  • Kevin

    See ya Fredder, you krazy kitty!

  • Kevin

    See ya Fredder, you krazy kitty!

  • http://www.muschamp.ca/ Muskie

    Hobbs misses Fred. He keeps coming to our back door. He keeps expecting we’ll let Fred out. He looks so sad sitting outside alone on our deck.

    He’s not the only one who is sad.

  • http://www.muschamp.ca Muskie

    Hobbs misses Fred. He keeps coming to our back door. He keeps expecting we’ll let Fred out. He looks so sad sitting outside alone on our deck.

    He’s not the only one who is sad.

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