This is our cat Willie, who we foster-to-adopted three years ago. He belonged to a veteran for 9-10 years, who lost his residence and couldn't keep him any longer, so we adopted him. I stay in touch with his former owner to let him know how he's doing.

Yesterday he began having trouble breathing and we took him to an animal hospital this morning. The diagnosis unfortunately was heart failure, and she believes he may have 3-6 months left. He's really the most affectionate little guy and this is tearing me up. If you're reading this and could just have a good thought for him, I'd appreciate that.

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Thank you Ron, and thanks everyone else too. He's home since yesterday, on some heart meds and has a cardio appt later this week where they'll determine what other meds he needs. The plan now is just to keep him as calm, happy, and healthy as possible for as long as possible. I thank my stars that I work at home so I can be around for him all day; same as when my grand old boy Atticus passed several years ago, so glad I was able to be around him full-time to care for him. It's amazing how they burrow right into your heart.

This is my goofball Willie, who I first wrote about in post 3606. He lost his battle with heart failure today. I've been his caregiver since New Years Eve, seen him through his good days, which thankfully were many, and his bad days, which thankfully were few. He dealt with his disease like a real champ for three months, and took a turn for the worse earlier this week, which even for a few days he was able to deal with. His breathing turned much worse yesterday and we knew we had to let him go. We parted ways at home in one of his favorite spots (I highly recommend this instead of taking your dog or kitty to the vet for their last visit), and as he feel asleep, he gave me the gift of one last kiss on the cheek. We'll miss you so much, Willie, until we meet again.

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That looks like it hurts! I was once laying on the bed with our cat Ripley on my stomach, petting him. Something in the room fell down with a BANG! and he dug his claws in and took off like a shot. Ripped me and my shirt wide open.

Last summer, I took him out on the deck to sit on my lap (he's an indoor cat). A stray calico appeared and walked through the yard, and he started growling. I went to pick him up to take him inside, and he turned and locked his claws around my arm, then sank his fangs into me. I've been bitten before but this was deep. Five minutes later he acted like nothing happened, but my arm got infected, got cellulitis, swelled up and got hot to the touch. Had to go to an urgent care facility and get a tetanus shot and a regimen of antibiotics. Never trifle with a cat bite.

Not the same thing, but my Ripley was a bit of an anxious maniac when we first got him; over-grooming, scratching us, etc. Our vet put him on 5 mg Fluoxetine daily, and it's calmed him down considerably. Basically, it's kitty Prozac.

Back in post #3824 I posted photos of our cat Willie, who we had just had to put down due to heart failure. Eight months later, just before New Years Eve, the anniversary of the day Willie was diagnosed, we felt it was time to adopt again and brought home this little boy who's missing an eye. I named him Jacks (One-eyed Jacks, get it?) and I've never met a cat who was initially so skittish. He's warmed up quite a lot in two months though, likes having his tummy rubbed, runs into the bedroom and leaps up on me when it's bedtime, and loves attacking and wrestling with his big cat brother (who outweighs him by a good 5 lbs). He's all personality, farts more than any cat I've ever known, and I keep finding his paw prints all over the glass of my pins.

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I would love to know how he lost it, but he was a feral who was TNR'ed so we'll never know. It doesn't hinder him from watching movies and bird videos, which he loves to do.