We've been married for over forty years, and in that time we have adopted and loved ten different cats. Two of them were, sadly, very short-lived, and four of them disappeared, leaving no trace. Two died of old age (one at 15, one at over 18). And we're still feeling shocked and sad after losing the ninth.
Alex was the largest of his litter, born early April 2014. He and his two sisters lived with their mother and our friends until they were three months old. Our son, who lived in a flat about a kilometre away adopted Lady Jane, and we adopted the other two: Alexander the Great and Joan of Arc. We didn't use their full names, of course, unless they were in trouble...
We had both Cleo, our longest-lived cat, and her daughter Sophia at the time. It took a while for Alex and Joan to be accepted, and they were never close friends with our older cats. But gradually they learned to live alongside each other. I wrote a long post about our newly adopted kittens in September 2014, with some photos.
Then, just a couple of months after that post, Sophia disappeared. I wrote a post about that, too. And Joan of Arc vanished just before Christmas 2015. She and Alex had only been going outside for six months and mostly played together when, one evening, he returned and she didn't. We thought at first that they must have caught a feline bug as he wasn't well for a few days afterwards, but then realised his tail was injured. He was also terrified when he heard cars, for a while. So perhaps she was hit by a car and he just escaped. We'll never know.
In the summer of 2016 we adopted Lady Jane, when our son moved back to the UK. And in January 2017, Cleo died after a very brief period of being obviously unwell. She had seemed frail for a while, but had been eating and washing normally until just a week or so before she died, aged around eighteen and a half. We were sad but not devastated, although Cleo's passing felt like the end of an era. She had been with us for almost all our time in Cyprus.
So then we just had Alex and Jane. They were never as close as Alex and Joan had been, but still good companions.
Jane remained very kitten-like, scampering about the house, jumping on my shoulder, leaping onto bookcases, chasing bits of string or other 'toys' she discovered around the house. Alex slowed down somewhat, however. Of all our cats, he's the one who had the most medical issues. I think we took him to the vet more than all the others put together.
It started with his tail injury (well, other than having him neutered at a young age). Then he had a couple of strange incidents, where he seemed to be short of breath, and crying as if he were very scared. The vet examined him thoroughly each time but couldn't find anything wrong - and, by the time we got him to the vet, he was often getting over whatever the problem was, anyway.
Alex used to catch birds sometimes, on the roof, so it's not surprising that we had to buy worming tablets for him regularly. We got to know the symptoms (a lot of coughing and retching) so we could just buy tablets rather than taking him to the vet and paying an extra fee for doing so. And we were increasingly concerned that he would drink a lot of water, far more than is normal for a cat.
One of our visitors was a vet, and she said it was likely he had kidney problems. But she said that it would be uncomfortable for him (and expensive for us) to have tests to confirm this - and that medication, if available in Cyprus (which was doubtful) wouldn't significantly improve or prolong his life. She said he was obviously an active, much loved and contented cat, but we should be aware that the time would probably come when he would have to be put to sleep by the vet. She said we would know when that time was: it could be within a year or two, it could be longer.
In the event, he died at home, unexpectedly on 19th March this year. He had another crying and breathless episode which lasted a bit longer than usual, then he seemed to recover. Then he had a kind of fit, and within a few minutes, was gone. It was just a few weeks before his 10th birthday.
I don't think we've ever been so sad and shocked at losing a cat. Alex was more of a companion than a pet - he followed us around (particularly Richard) and kept us in line: he was quite demanding sometimes, but always very loving.
In retrospect we wonder if there was a problem with his heart, as well as his kidneys. He had slowed down so much, more so than other cats of his age. Admittedly Jane is unusually active and lively, but he had started plodding rather than running, and was less and less inclined to jump more than a short distance.
Alex had a good life, even if it was cut short. And we're both thankful that we didn't have to make that final decision for him. But still, it has been very difficult to get used to him being gone. Jane is now an 'only' cat: even if she would permit another feline inhabitant of the house, we're not planning on having any more cats.
I started writing this post a day or two afterwards, but I couldn't bring myself to finish it until now.
Rest in peace, Alexander the Great.
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