This post discusses the death of a pet.

May contain swearing.

Oscar

Oscar joined us in June of 2011 as a little ball of fluff, joining our first cat Maya when she was two years old.

He loved to snuggle into us on the sofa. I recall that on his first few nights with us, he would sleep in our bed, head on the pillow. My wife and I rammed on the edge of the bed to give him plenty of space.

He enjoyed unconventional sleeping positions.

By July, his face was becoming like the one that would come to greet us for over the next decade, through a house move, and arrival of two children.

He was remarkably tolerant when tiny noisy humans arrived in his life. Never a hiss. Never a bite. Never a scratch.

Maybe just an expression of “Is thing staying with us now?”

He was playful and inquisitive. Most Amazon boxes were occupied at least temporarily.

The only visits he made to the vet was for his annual boosters. Unfortunately, in early 2023 he had developed kidney disease, which can be common to cats of his age. He stopped eating and was drinking a lot.

For a few weeks, he had a feeding tube in his neck. Typical of Oscar, he later pulled the thing out himself. But this was a good move, as by this point he had made a great recovery and was eating again. He underwent more treatment and our happy boy was back.

We made sure he was happy. Eventually, all the drugs and money can only buy time in a situation like this. In August of 2023, there was a marked change in his behaviour and happiness. It was clear that we had reached the end of our happy journey together. The daily morning greetings. Trotting down the stairs to see us when we came home from somewhere. Lying on my desk in front of the keyboard making sure I didn’t work too hard. Distracting my CEO during work Teams meetings by obscuring the webcam. Climbing to the top of doors and getting himself stuck. Setting his own tail on fire once (he was fine; just singed). Gaining the affectionate term “asshole”. Despite being one of two cats, somehow being called “The Cat” because it was always the same answer to “Why is X on the floor?”. His aversion to birthday cards, as he would walk over and knock them down specifically. His personal cushion when he joined us for evenings watching Netflix. His rapid darting up and down the stairs at 3am. His tolerance of children and very gentle nature. Wanting to be friends with the neighbourhood cats visiting his window.

We said goodbye to Oscar on Monday 7th August 2023. He will be missed by all the family.