Yesterday, we had to put our cat Merlin down. It was completely unexpected, just a few hours earlier he had been a normal loving cat. I had just ended up getting out of the shower when I heard him coughing, something that had occured a couple times over the last few years. However, he continued coughing and his breathing was labored. I sat with him for a few minutes before waking up my girlfriend to tell her that Merlin might be sick. I assumed it was possibly an allergy or sinus thing, but we decided to take him to our local vet. The vet gave us some ideas of what she thought it was, and told us if he didn't improve in a few hours that he needed to go to an urgent pet facility. I was still optimistic things were going to be okay. I took him home and my girlfriend went to work. I tried to comfort him as best as I could, but the breathing got worse. Still, I was hesitant to take him anywhere, because I wanted to believe things would be okay. I also was worried about yet again leaving the house with him, since he was very stressed any time we left the house, and deep down my hope was always that Merlin would pass away at the house in his sleep.

Merlin was a rescue cat. His former owner had died in 2015 and he had been in a shelter for 3 months. The description they gave him was that he was aggressive, which didn't fit his personality at all, as he was always the exact opposite to everyone who met him. I was hesitant to get a cat, but my girlfriend and I weren't living together yet, so she wanted to have a companion who would be there when I wasn't. She grew up with pets, I didn't. I wasn't even a cat person, they were okay, but always thought dogs were cooler. My girlfriend drove to the Illinois rescue where he was being held, and it was love at first sight. Merlin was actually going to be put down, if the shelter got any additional cats, so we were fortunate to find him when we did.

When we got him, Merlin was 6. You'd think him being an older cat, he would do his own thing, but he enjoyed being in our company. Merlin always greeted you from the stairs when you entered the house, he would roll around enthusiastically at knowing you were there. It took me just two days to fall for the cat. His charm is that of no other cat I have ever seen. He could be a clown at times but always knew how to warm your heart. There were many times when I would call my girlfriend when I was driving from work, and I could hear Merlin in the background mewing. Petting him on the face, you'd receive a snorting purr and what always looked like a smile. Opening any can would cause him to race into the kitchen to see if you were giving him canned cat food. Laying down on the couch, he would invite himself to jump up and lay with you. Going to the bathroom, he would stand guard and check on you...which was weird. I'd sing silly songs to the cat and he would join in. What that cat did in the 7 years we had him, was to change me for the better. He would not let me stew in frustration or allow me to remain sad. Merlin gave me support.

I called my girlfriend to let her know that Merlin wasn't getting better, so I was going to take him to the urgent pet facility, about a 25 minute drive from where we live. While driving with him, I tried to remain optimistic and to comfort both him and myself, that we were going to get some medicine and he'd be back to normal...after all he was an older cat, but he wasn't that old. Once I got there, they took Merlin from me...had I known this would be one of the last time I'd see him, I would have done a better job of making him comfortable, but I didn't know he would be away from me for so long. I was placed in a small room, where I waited probably 15 minutes. The doctor came in and told me what he thought was going on, but needed to do x-rays to confirm, which I agreed to. Another 30 minutes go by before he comes back and tells me the dreaded news.

Merlin had congestive heart failure, something he was genetically born with. The doctor stated that even with the best treatment, we would at best have 6 to 12 more months, and it would require a lot of work to keep him comfortable and painless. Before I could give the doctor an answer on how to move forward, I called my girlfriend again to give her the news, something I barely got out without struggling with my words, fighting back my tears. She made the brave decision that Merlin needed to let his pain end, and be put to sleep. I am so grateful to have a girlfriend who is strong in a situation like this, because I was anything but. She spoke with the doctor by phone, and then left work to meet me there. By this point, I had been there for two and a half hours, and I could only assume how Merlin felt. They wheeled him in and he looked so weak and scared. I was weak and scared as well, but I just wanted him to know that I loved him and he made my life so much more meaningful. It was so hard to say goodbye. The doctor came in, gave him the injection and Merlin closed his eyes and quietly laid his head one last time.

Driving back home, I was torn up. I lost my good friend, a family member and my constant support ally. Going into the house, I saw all his stuff there, only to not be greeted with his peppy mews and enthusiasm. I nearly collapsed on the floor in crying. I now have to move forward with what comes next, for which I don't know. These last two years have absolutely thrown so many things at me, but this was by far the hardest. Words can't express how I'm feeling.

Merlin, I miss you and I'll love you forever. I can only hope your life was as benefited with my presence as my life was with your's.

Thank you, I appreciate it.

Thanks, everyone. I definitely appreciate the kind words.