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Mr Misty

Mr-MistyMy dear little Mr Misty has a real story to tell of hardship and suffering. He was only four years old when I noticed all was not well with him. He had been ill before, but this time I knew it was more serious. Straight to the Vet and a series of blood tests, X-rays and examinations. The Vet thought it was Lymphoma, a form of cancer and wanted to put him down but I could not do that, I could not part with him. He was given all the medication thought to be appropriate and we took him home. The steroids worked their magic and gradually he improved. He then developed diabetes and had to have insulin injections twice a day. All this he endured without any complaints, he was a model patient.

Misty eventually had to have chemotherapy which proved to be a saviour and he thrived, but we noticed he did not come when called and whereas he used to be so nervous and alarmed at the slightest sound, we began to realise he was now deaf and being a very nervous cat, this was a blessing in disguise. He lived what was now a quiet and peaceful life. At the same time as he lost his hearing, his voice became louder and he would call out as loud as he could and waited for me to go to him, so eager and pleased to see me as I scooped him up and cuddled him like a baby carrying him home and to safety. Willow also did her best for him and frequently gave him a  cuddle.

When you love and care for an animal that needs you, you become one with them and the bond is so incredibly strong, they seem part of you, and this was how it was with Misty and me. Life was as good as it gets! Every time I picked him up I would say to him “Have I told you lately that I love you?” he just purred his own loving reply. We understood each other. Even his Meow’s sounded like “Marmeee!” and visitors laughed when they heard him as they could not believe their ears!

Life was not all suffering and he enjoyed playing ‘cat and mouse’ with the other cats, stealing their mouse from under their noses. Misty was almost toothless after necessary extractions, but there was no stopping him during the baby rabbit season when he would hunt every day by sight and smell and always managed to find a baby rabbit which he devoured with gusto. My dearest Misty managed to reach the age of eleven when the Vet found he had a tumour in the intestine which now signalled his ‘time to go’. I still could not have him put to sleep, so we took him home and we cared for him giving him water and Lactol every hour for the few days he had left. I slept on the settee with Misty in a little bed next to me, available every minute should he call out, and I went without sleep to care for him. We had time enough to say our good-byes and to reaffirm our love for each other.

A broken heart does not do justice to how I felt parting with my dear Mr Misty, I loved him so much, but I pride myself in the fact that he did have a life and a happy one at that, and I was so pleased I made the right choice for him.


The full story and many more are in the book “Viewed From My Window” by Patricia Oliver price £10 + £1.75 p&p. For more details, contact Patricia on 01202 826244. All proceeds go towards the Veterinary and Welfare needs of the 16 feral cats currently in her care.