Ode to a Friend Now Lost

The story forthcoming starts off happily enough, I was the tender age of 16, I was in my third year of highschool, I had a girlfriend and a happy family. My life as I knew it was essentially perfect. I had everything I wanted: friends, family, my health, my pets... I hadn't a care in the world. That was in April of 2008.

I didn't usually care for springtime. Spring is when the weather begins to warm up, and I prefer the coolness of the fall and winter seasons. I made due, however, as spring gave way to summer, which was when the school year ended and my vacation began. Spring has always been my least favourite season, with rainy days and allergic reactions. This particular spring was the worst that I can recall. Up until the end of April 2008 I had been living a pretty happy life. May came around, and that's when things started turning around on me.

There was a time and a place where I had a stable family and three pets, though that time has long since passed. I had three cats: Floyd the eldest, Felix was mine specifically and Spaz, who was the only female. Each cat was a year apart, and at the time of this tale Floyd was 6, Felix was 5 and Spaz was 4. Each of them was as healthy as a house cat could be, save for Felix who was a little overweight, but the veterinarian wasn't overly concerned. A simple diet and rationing of food would suffice to fix Felix's weight problem.

Felix as a cat was a very weird animal. If you had lived with him for as long as I had, you would believe that he was a multitude of animals in a cat's body. He couldn't meow... in fact, he made a kind of squeaking noise, almost like a barely audible bark. Whenever he would run he would gallop like a horse, and it was a funny sight to see because his belly fat would sway from side to side. He seemed to be every animal save for a cat, but he was still a great pet, and an even better friend.

I previously said that spring is my least favourite season. May 2008 came around, and my family and I noticed that something was very wrong with poor Felix. He seemed to be fatigued more than usual, and he was urinating in weird places. We didn't know he was sick, we thought he was just being disobedient, so we spanked him. I'll never forget the look on his face that he gave me after he ran away from us. He had such a look of terror on his face... it breaks my heart to think about it. I feel especially bad because he was my pet, and if we had known he was sick we wouldn't have disciplined him.

One day stands out in my mind as the day things took a turn for the worse. On May 2nd, my step-father noticed that Felix looked sickly, to such a degree that he commented "I think Felix is dying". We immediately took him to the vet, and they started treating him and giving him medication. Felix's last few days were spent suffering in a hospital, because we got him there too late.

I'll never forget the day he passed away. It was on May 4th, which is my mother's birthday. It was a Sunday that year, and coincidentally I was participating in a bowling league which took place every Sunday from September through until May. The bowling alley was situated two buildings away from the vet. I was in the middle of my second game when my step-father came in and told me that it didn't look good for Felix, and that I should come with him to say goodbye. I stopped what I was doing and without hesitation I accompanied him.

When I got to the vet's office they were actually closed, but given the circumstances they allowed my step-father, my mother and I to see him before he passed. I entered the room they were keeping him in, and when I saw him there, lying on the table hooked up to an IV, gasping for each breath and gazing into the distance in a seemingly catatonic state, I broke down crying. I sobbed and sobbed, knowing that this was going to be the last time I would ever see my friend. I asked the vet and my parents for some alone time with Felix, so that I could say a final goodbye. When they left and the door closed, I broke down again, sobbing and sniveling. I kept looking into his eyes, wondering if he knew I was there, and if he even knew what was going on. All I could hear besides my quiet sobs were his soft, rapid breaths. I kept stroking him, telling him that it was going to be ok because he was going to be in a better place soon. I also apologized to him for hurting him when he was sick, and I told him that if I had known I would never have laid a hand on him.

I asked him if he remembered the day we brought him home, and as I questioned him I began to reminisce about the day I met him. He was in a pet store, in a cage with another kitten. My mother and I liked to go to the pet store to look at cats because we like them, but this time was different. We really wanted a cat, and because I had done so well during my grade six year of school, she wanted to reward me. I picked Felix out because he looked similar to Floyd, who is a tabby cat. Felix's markings resembled a tabby on his top half, but he was pure white on the bottom. It was love at first sight.

The vet came in, and I asked for a few more minutes alone, and she left. I just sat there petting his head, telling him if there was a God (a concept that I am very much open to, but I still don't fully believe in), then he would take away his pain. I stared into his eyes, and when his gaze didn't follow mine I knew he was going to leave me. The vet came back in and asked us if we wanted to be there when they put him to sleep, but I declined. I wanted more than anything to be with him when he passed, but it would have broken my heart even more so to be there. As we were leaving, I turned around, knelt down beside the table, gave him a kiss and said "See ya later, buddy".

To this day, nearly two years after his death, there isn't a day that goes by when I'm not reminded of him. I loved him more than anything, and his death was a difficult experience. The same night he died I stayed up all night crying, and didn't go to school the next day. He was more than just a cat to me, he was someone I could find comfort in whenever I was having a difficult time. He would always sleep in the corner of my bed closest to where I slept, and after he died I preserved that area for a number of months. I could tell him anything and he could never tell a soul. He was the best pet I could have ever asked for, and his friendship was invaluable to me.