Doc, one of Mom'* cats, the last of the batch that I grew up with.
He'* 17 years old, black and white, big and has extra toes.
He has battled FIV, the feline version of HIV, for more than half that lifespan. He always managed to battle back after the various sicknesses and infections. He lost all but three teeth to mouth infections, but was perfectly happy to get along on canned soft food(the other cats got fat on his leavings ). His eyes got worse and worse after we found that he had a condition where the eyelids turn in, causing the eyelashes to scrape the cornea. He went through several surgeriesfor that before we realized it wasn't working, and since then his old eyes have always been blurred and rheumy.
Lately he'* been sick alot, hiding under the bed and cycling through bouts of illness. His balance has gone, and he isn't eating.
Mom just called to tell us that he started throwing up red last night, and she'* taking him to the vet...
Sean and I are heading out to say goodbye now...

Sorry to hear about your cat. I have recently had to put down one of my two which we had for 3 years. She was litter box trained but still randomly used the floor. We tried everything there was to help her to go in the box, but we finally had to take her back where we got her from and have them put her down. That was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I cried my eyes out! Her brother is doing well though and seems to still be happy.

He'* gone now. We took him in, and I'm not sure he even knew where he was. He sat on Mom'* lap and let us stroke him as he went.
He was always a good cat. I don't think I remember him ever deliberately scratching anyone, not even as a rambunctious little kitten. Even during the years when we had to drag him out from under furniture for eyedrops and pills and ointments, he never once ever tried to fight, just dug into carpet and held on.
The worst mark he ever left on anything was the night my Uncle chased off a raccoon with his mountain lion imitation...Mom had twelve good bleeding gouges where he launched himself off her lap in a blind panic... (He had two extra toeson each front foot, one extra on each rear, for a total of fourteen claws. Two had to be removed later because they gave him trouble.)
He used to be so smart, too. He'd play fetch, but only with a particular green rubber snake. And he could even pick up small objects with one forepaw. I used to see him do that with his food, and even with small rubber bounce balls.

He was the ultimate lap cat, too. Content to sit for hours, never insisting on attention. But when you petted him, he made it known he was grateful with a deep resounding purr. If you scratched him under the chin, he would stretch his neck out like a ferret.

We're burying him out by the hammock trees. He always joined anyone laying out there. I'd lay there swinging gently in the sunshine during the summer, reading a book, with him laying on my chest.

Somebody wrote a story once, called The Door Into Summer, about how his cat went around the house, looking for the door that would open onto a warm summer day.
I hope Doc found his door.

I teared up reading what you just wrote above

I know exactly how you feel. My Mom'* cat Midnight had to be put to sleep April 5th, 2006 at the age of 17. We got ehr when I was 6 years old. She had a healthy life but towards the end she started losing alot of weight. I came home from work one night and couldn't find her. I looked everywhere and finally I found her curled up behind the couch. She popped her head up, stood and and fell to the side. She had no balance at all.

The next morning we took her into the vet to be put down. I cried my eyes out as they did it, and I still tear up to this day when I think about it. It'* never easy losing a pet, no matter if you've had them 17 years or 3 years. The funny part though...when the lady took her into the back to check her out, weigh her, and such Midnight growled and hissed at her She was always a fiesty one. But as soon as the lady handed her back to me, she calmed down and was fine again.

Sadly, my Mom'* other cat Ashes is now 17, he sleeps alot and isn't eating much. He went from 27lbs, down to 9lbs in the last year. We know it'* just a matter of time now, but he still has alot of fight in him. The hardest part is he is my pal. Has been since we got him when I was 9 years old.

There'* a good note to add to this story.
I went over to the neighbors' house to let them know we were going to set off some fireworks at midnight, and the Grandmother was the only one at the house. She said that her Grandson, my childhood friend, Erin, was out in the barn birthing a goat.
I went bak to talk to them, and make sure that us setting off our fireworks wouldn't scare the mother and the kids.
When I came into the barn, I found Erin, his girlfriend Jill, and friend Dan, all working feverishly to try to save a kid that was stuck hard in the birth canal. Try as they might, they couldn't get him past the hips. I watched for awhile, but Dan'* wife was due on a flight at 11pm, and we decided that I would pitch in, while Jill washed up and headed off to pick her up.
We strained and struggled to keep the mother from collapsing to her lame side, but nothing we did could convince the kidto emerge. Finally, I called Mom to let her know where I was, and she showed up with some fresh supplies and my brother.
Unfortunately, by that time, the mother had pretty much given up. She was tired and wouldn't stay up, and Dan and I just couldn't keep her up.
Erin finally gave in and called his dad home from the party they had been at.
Once he showed up, we got her rolled all the way onto her side, and he was able to finally pull the kid free.
We were expecting to see a dead kid by that time, he had been in the birth canal for several hours. But when we layed him on the straw, he was moving a little. A quick massage and towelling off, and he was breathing and trying to move a little.
We turned him over to his mom just as she started on the second kid, who came out without any trouble, being half the size of his brother.
So, two new lives out there. Two little bleating bundles of legs and giant heads.

I'd say that that is a good end to a bad day, and a damn good way to end the year.

Happy New Year, y'all.

The little guy up front is the one that gave us all the trouble. The other was happy to come out. Last I saw, they were both working on nursing and finding their feet.
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See it all the time here at the hospital but I'm glad you have a sense of 'renewal', heck - you even had a "hand in it" LOL

I too lost a cat due to Fiv and it was very hard on me as he was my first cat. Sorry for your loss.