Kevin Kat has been diagnosed with a stomach tumour.

PurBee

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So sorry RF 😢 It’s a relief to hear the vets were very respectful. Well done for having the strength to do the last kindness for King Kevin, Kat of Kats.
I wish i could make you a warm nourishing veggie soup and fresh bread, and natter about our beloved animals. x
 

FinnishLapphund

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I'm so, so sorry for your loss. RIP King Kevin Kat

It was heartwarming to hear that the vet who did it was supportive, and that your old veterinarian took the time to come and give you a hug.

If only you could remove being so used to doing all the habits I presume you've developed because of Kevin Kat, the same way you removed his things, maybe it wouldn't be quite so hard. Then there's these stupid bags, shadows, and things that will probably turn out to have just the right weight, size, and/or shape to trick your brain to thinking It's him. And then it will hurt all over again.

But you know, even if you do get a new cat, tomorrow, or next year, you will still hurt, and miss King Kevin Kat, but a new cat might be a distraction...
However if you feel that you're done with having to mourn pets that dies from you, I hope you find something else that gives you comfort.

{{{{{{Hugs}}}}}}
 

Sandstone1

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Its early days, Kevin was a big part of your life and you will grieve for him. Someone said the price we pay for love is grief. Please look after yourself now. Kevin would not be happy if his slave was not taking care of herself! There are lots of waifs and strays needing a home should you decide to have another. There will never be another Kevin but there will be another little soul in need.
 

Supertrooper

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As above. The locum practice vet failed to identify this when I consulted with her a couple of months ago. She said Kevin had Feline Irritable Bowel Syndrome. She didn't make any treatment recommendations or give any advice. Kevin continued to lose weight and veer between bolting large amounts of food and leaving it
Today, I took him to my usual vet (same practice),who was on annual leave when I took him before. He did a manual examination and said that Kevin had a stomach tumour.
He gave him a hefty shot of steroids and said to bring him back at the end of next week. If no improvement in appetite, and weight he will then be pts.
He's 15. He had a rotten life before he came to me, being a persecuted semi-feral stray, kicked out by his doting elderly lady owner's daughter because he scratched her two-year old son when he was dragging him round by his front legs. A friend knew that I had just lost my 22yr- old cat (who the RSPCA had assured me was 10 yrs old eight months before) to acute kidney failure, and rescued Kevin, assuring his elderly owner that he would have a good home with me.
I think he has. He's had fun taunting swans (idiot Kat!) running around with his slinky black girlfriend, lying in the sun in the wheelhouse and being a Smarmy Git with the neighbours for a bit of cheese or Dreamies.
He's been an excellent, if demanding companion whilst I've been pretty much bunk- bound with M E two days out of three. I'm a loner and he's been my best mate.
I just can't stop crying.

I’m so so sorry 😭
 

TRECtastic

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Very sad news but the kindest act we can give our animals at the end is peacefully pts

Hopefully in time you will look back on all your happy memories, and if another cat comes along that needs rescuing it will have the best home with you x
 

Ratface

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Thanks, all. I couldn't sleep past 02:00hrs, so I got up and cleared all of Kevin's thing out, keeping only his two feed bowls, but hiding them away. I've spent four hours cleaning the interior of the barge - mainly of his extraordinary amount of shed hair! He was groomed every single day, stroked, cleaned by himself on all occasions during every hour he was awake and not patrolling the estate.
My friend who came upon him in straitened circumstances was informed and immediately responded by saying she could bring down another within a day! I kindly informed her that neither my finances or my mental state would be able to cope with that, but would let her know whenever I felt I could welcome another heart-breaker in.
I only had him for fifteen months. It feels like fifteen years.
 

Highmileagecob

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Oh dear, the kindness of friends can be a bit overwhelming at times. You are grieving, and processing and coming to terms with the past few days, and a replacement cat would be just that - it wouldn't be appropriate right now. As for the speed of darling Kev's decline - it's bittersweet isn't it? Yes, you lost him very quickly, but also there was no dragging out his decline to the bitter end. You allowed him to leave with dignity and no pain. Kevin sounded to be a streetwise character, who chose to stay with you., a maverick who lived life on his terms. I think we will all miss him, even though we didn't know him.
 

Supertrooper

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Thanks, all. I couldn't sleep past 02:00hrs, so I got up and cleared all of Kevin's thing out, keeping only his two feed bowls, but hiding them away. I've spent four hours cleaning the interior of the barge - mainly of his extraordinary amount of shed hair! He was groomed every single day, stroked, cleaned by himself on all occasions during every hour he was awake and not patrolling the estate.
My friend who came upon him in straitened circumstances was informed and immediately responded by saying she could bring down another within a day! I kindly informed her that neither my finances or my mental state would be able to cope with that, but would let her know whenever I felt I could welcome another heart-breaker in.
I only had him for fifteen months. It feels like fifteen years.

You will know when you are ready and I’m a great believer that animals find you, especially ones in need of a good home

I’m thinking of you xxxx
 

Lurfy

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So sorry you lost King Kevin Kat. Your descriptions of him created vivid images of the stately feline in my mind. I feel like I know him, so sorry he has passed away. Take good care of yourself and be comforted in the knowledge you provided KK with a warm and loving home, he landed on his feet with you Ratface xxx
 

Ratface

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I keep hearing his Very Heavy Paws clumping down the perpendicular flight of stairs from his penthouse apartment in the wheelhouse to the servants quarters (the aft cabin). I keep waiting for the imperious paw/claw on the face indicating that "Fooood!! Now!!!" must be served. Chop chop!
I'm unconsciously waiting for the airborne Lancaster bomber that was Kevin Kat landing on the bunk/me, to indicate that prompt food service was required immediately.
I have to pass Kevin's private yacht - an abandoned little vessel immediately up from us that he commandeered. He used to crouch on the chart table for hours, plotting a course to who knows where?
His sliding paw marks are still on the hull, where he hauled himself aboard.
I'm off up to the showers with a set of clean clothes and then to the village shop for a few basic stores - apples, bread and cheese. I'll have a go at the library as well.
Sorry to keep maundering on. You're the only ones who really understand. I intuitively know that if I mention it to anyone else here they will say "Oh - you can always get another one". Which would be unwise.
 

m1stify

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I keep hearing his Very Heavy Paws clumping down the perpendicular flight of stairs from his penthouse apartment in the wheelhouse to the servants quarters (the aft cabin). I keep waiting for the imperious paw/claw on the face indicating that "Fooood!! Now!!!" must be served. Chop chop!
I'm unconsciously waiting for the airborne Lancaster bomber that was Kevin Kat landing on the bunk/me, to indicate that prompt food service was required immediately.
I have to pass Kevin's private yacht - an abandoned little vessel immediately up from us that he commandeered. He used to crouch on the chart table for hours, plotting a course to who knows where?
His sliding paw marks are still on the hull, where he hauled himself aboard.
I'm off up to the showers with a set of clean clothes and then to the village shop for a few basic stores - apples, bread and cheese. I'll have a go at the library as well.
Sorry to keep maundering on. You're the only ones who really understand. I intuitively know that if I mention it to anyone else here they will say "Oh - you can always get another one". Which would be unwise.
It sounds like Kevin is still with you! Take care of yourself x
 

SO1

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So sorry to hear this so many beloved pets seem to have been lost to forums members.

Take care of yourself it is totally normal to feel sad.

I am glad at least the vets were compassionate and had a good bedside manner. It makes so much difference. When I had to Homey Pts my vet gave me a hug and sent me a card.

Poor Kevin had a terminal illness and you should be proud of yourself doing all you could to help him be comfortable and to try and find out what was wrong. I am sure he enjoyed the love you gave him.
 

Mrs B

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I keep hearing his Very Heavy Paws clumping down the perpendicular flight of stairs from his penthouse apartment in the wheelhouse to the servants quarters (the aft cabin). I keep waiting for the imperious paw/claw on the face indicating that "Fooood!! Now!!!" must be served. Chop chop!
I'm unconsciously waiting for the airborne Lancaster bomber that was Kevin Kat landing on the bunk/me, to indicate that prompt food service was required immediately.
I have to pass Kevin's private yacht - an abandoned little vessel immediately up from us that he commandeered. He used to crouch on the chart table for hours, plotting a course to who knows where?
His sliding paw marks are still on the hull, where he hauled himself aboard.
I'm off up to the showers with a set of clean clothes and then to the village shop for a few basic stores - apples, bread and cheese. I'll have a go at the library as well.
Sorry to keep maundering on. You're the only ones who really understand. I intuitively know that if I mention it to anyone else here they will say "Oh - you can always get another one". Which would be unwise.

Those descriptions of him are wonderfully evocative - I could absolutely see him in my mind's eye and smiled at the "Fooood!! Now!!!" bit. You see the thing with Humans is they are SO stupid! You think you've just got 'em trained as you want them and then they get all dozy about Prompt Service again ...

Someone once said to me 'But it's only a cat!'. How very wrong and lacking in perception, I thought. They are little furry gods with sharp bits & wicked senses of humour and no two are ever alike.
 

SEL

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Oh Ratface I'm so sorry. I've adopted many a cat over the years and all of them have been very clear when it's their time as Kevin was with you. He was lucky to have had those 15 months in cat luxury with his personal slave and it's going to be very hard for you not having him around.

I tend to find that when we're ready for another cat they turn up. They are, after all, higher beings. Look after yourself xx
 

FinnishLapphund

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I keep hearing his Very Heavy Paws clumping down the perpendicular flight of stairs from his penthouse apartment in the wheelhouse to the servants quarters (the aft cabin). I keep waiting for the imperious paw/claw on the face indicating that "Fooood!! Now!!!" must be served. Chop chop!
I'm unconsciously waiting for the airborne Lancaster bomber that was Kevin Kat landing on the bunk/me, to indicate that prompt food service was required immediately.
I have to pass Kevin's private yacht - an abandoned little vessel immediately up from us that he commandeered. He used to crouch on the chart table for hours, plotting a course to who knows where?
His sliding paw marks are still on the hull, where he hauled himself aboard.
I'm off up to the showers with a set of clean clothes and then to the village shop for a few basic stores - apples, bread and cheese. I'll have a go at the library as well.
Sorry to keep maundering on. You're the only ones who really understand. I intuitively know that if I mention it to anyone else here they will say "Oh - you can always get another one". Which would be unwise.

King Kevin Kat spent months on training you/your brain to cater to his habits, to expect him to turn up, be where he should be, and do what he used to do. Of course your brain is going to hear what it expects to hear, of course you're unconsciously ready to feed him x times per day...
You can remove his feed bowls, but you still know where they used to be. If his water bowl was on the floor, your body will tell you to watch out so your foot doesn't accidentally makes his water spill over, but stop, oh that's right, it isn't there anymore.

Your body will automatically tell you that you can't place something at x spot, because it would be in Kevin Kat's way, so you put it somewhere else, and then moments later you're suddenly reminded about why you don't need to do things like that anymore. About to make yourself some tea, maybe you should check if Kevin Kat wants something... Suddenly realise how long you have stayed at the library, maybe it's time to go home to feed...

These first days will just be one realisation after another about how much of your daily routines evolved around King Kevin Kat.
It will take time to reprogram your brain to get used to living without him.

That said, I'm not 100% in the logical explanation camp. I like to believe it's possible that their souls might come back to check up on us, that they're not completely gone, and e.g. only some weeks ago I for some seconds thought I saw Beata's snout sticking out under my bed where she usually used to sleep. When I stopped in my tracks to take a second look, there was no shadow or anything else there to have triggered my memory.
Maybe she was there again for a visit, or maybe it was just my brain, I don't know. But if you say you believe that it actually is Kevin Kat you hear still walking around, I hope you're right, and that it gives you some comfort.

{{{{{{Hugs}}}}}}

P.S. I think there's two main reason for why your friends would tell you to "just" get a new one. Either it's because they know how much better it made your life to live with a cat, or it's because they don't know how to handle grief, so they just want to chuck a band-aid on your wound, and hope that fixes it.

P.P.S. It hit me earlier today that I don't think I've ever really had a new "replacement" cat turn up in my life when I was ready for it. It's been more that ready or not, I needed a new cat in my life, so I went looking for one.
Cilla maybe could've fit the description of turning up in my life at the right moment, but we were happy with the 2 cats we had, and there was no vacancies needing replacing, when we happened to find her as an almost dead around 4 weeks old kitten in our Summer cabin's garden shed back in 2009. (I should've trusted Blomma, she'd been really interested in that shed for days, but I just thought there maybe was a hedgehog or something beneath it that she could smell.)
 

Griffin

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I am so sorry to read of your loss of your Kevin. What a lucky cat he was to have such a great life with you (although I know that is of little comfort when your heart is shattered). Rest well King Kevin.
 

Ratface

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I doubt Kevin Kat is resting! He'll be silently stalking about, long stripey tail slowly waving, casing the joint. Who's going to benefit his every need "Nooow!" Where is the best, highest, most comfortable, sheepskin-covered vantage point? The feline enemy? The gullible neighbour? "But I'm Staaarved!" The most-useful Slave? The most-amusing undead person to terrify? As a slightly-obsessed Professor of Anthropology I was tutored by, back in the 1970's used to mutter as he fled down the corridors of the LSE, "There is much to be done - MUCH to be done!!"
 
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