Mohammad lost his battle with kidney failure on Thursday. It had been going downhill for a few weeks now and Mom and me made the decision that he needed to go quietly and peacefully. So he did.
I got Mohammad when I was 12. I had always wanted a kitten. Ever since I knew what one was, I wanted one. When the time was right, finding a kitten turned out to be a nearly impossible venture in Raton. After weeks of searching my dad found an eight week old yellow and orange shorthair at Barbara's Pet Parade in the northeast heights. He was so tiny, especially his tail. My dad assumed that little cats had little tails. Before we got him, something happened to his little tail, he was missing sbout two thirds of it. But he wagged it with such pride.
When I started college, he stayed with my mom in Raton, since I couldn't take him. And he's been with her for 6 years. He never had a single health problem, except for kitty-acne, until this year with his kidneys. Even if something was wrong, he never would have complained. Such a mild-mannered creature. The only thing that upset him were dogs. When he saw one, his little tail would puff up and he would hiss and spit a storm.
Overall, I feel defeated about it, especially with it happening so close to losing Annie. He was a good kitty, if not the best kitty. He was always happy to see me, no matter how long it was in between visits. Even that last day, when he could barely walk, he purred for me when I pet him. I'll miss his little squeaks for a long time to come.
He would have been 13 in January. I buried him at my moms house, far away from Annie but with a view of house so he can still watch over my momma. I told him his kitty heaven would have no dogs, lots of bugs for him to chase and he'd even be reunited with his tail.
Long week. Life in general seems to be dragging out lately. Maybe that means something grand's coming up. I hope so.
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