Room service for senior cats
Using capsules to ease medication administration
Mr. Seymour Crusty
One of his cleanest and most handsome pics
Don’t laugh, but Crusty was found with a Fritos bag on his head! We affectionately referred to this as him being an “original forager”, bringing a real life meaning to what we know to be all about toys and enrichment at our house. He was foraging for his life. I’m sure licking the contents out of the bag was delicious!
G.G. and Crusty, "Early bird special at Denny's"
A local rescue woman brought him to see us at the office because he was a such a mess she didn’t want to take him to one of her many “regular vets”, Crust needed cat people! Let’s see if I can recall his myriad of issues, a mouth full of horrible teeth which resulted in full mouth extractions, he was FIV+, he had Pododermatitis on all four feet, a condition seen with FIV+ cats and interestingly more common in male cats as well. He had the Feline Herpes Virus, no surprise when you look at his pics and runny eyes and nose. His body was covered in scars. You can see in all of his photos, even at his most handsome and with hair styling by Moi, he looks a bit motheaten and splotchy. Feet chronically stained from his eye discharge, and well, he was old, old as crust! This is how he got the name, old and crusty, but then we didn’t want his name to be too derogatory, so we added the “Mr.” and “Seymour” and see, now his name was fancy and fun!
Supervising Yukon's Laser treatments.
This pic taken while still living the life of a clinic cat.
Snuggled up to Yukon's bloomers!
Remarkable interest in dogs after life on the street.
This cat was something else. Super timid with people at first, he was a “cats’ cat” and that became ever so much more evident as he healed and we introduced him to G.G. They made the cutest little senior citizen couple! He was not exactly adoptable. I mean, to the right individual, but he needed to be with other cats and with a whole host of medical issue we were not exactly advertising to place him. He became a staple at the clinic, and he was even ok with dogs. I brought Yukon, our German Shepard up for cold laser therapy pretty regularly for a while, and you can see that Crust happily nestled into the tail fur and supervised my treatments!
After dinner activities at the senior center with GG and Crust!
Peek-a-boo Crusty!
He, along with G.G. and Fluffy (I know!), were the three clinic cats I brought home that one Thanksgiving week and never brought them back. To see them blossom in a home, enjoy the fireplace, sofa, screened porch and to sleep in our bed, how could I possible return them to clinic life at their age? Now clinic cats were not exactly destitute at our practice, they lived the lap of luxury compared to most, but it was still a “harder” environment. No rugs, no soft furnishings, no bed or human to sleep with and they deserved that.
He was a "classic" kinda guy!
Strollin' Crust!
Crusty fully took advantage of all of the amenities! He really settled in, let his guard down and played a lot for a senior cat with medical problems. He even got to go for stroller walks! A far cry from fighting for his life on the street. He practically lived out on the screen porch and being a cat’s cat, he had SO MANY friends here. I have always found males to be a bit more easy going and accepting of others and this could not have been more true in our home. We had an overwhelming number of boys and he could often be found in the cuddle puddle. In preparing for this post, I was reminded of many videos of he and Hitch wrestling together, grooming each other, lots of mutual grooming. He was in heaven!
Makes one wonder what he thought of all of this?
Cuddle puddle
Still choosing to hang out with his clinic cat friends.
Cuddle train.
Cuddle puddle.
Boys club!
He and Vader became buds too.
Screen porch time!
While he was living with us, he also developed diabetes (Yay! He became my THIRD diabetic cat AT THE SAME TIME!) likely subsequent to the steroids used to treat his pododermatitis. He also developed heart disease and chronic kidney disease. So his laundry list of medications and treatments grew.
We love how much he played here!
Killing blue mouse toy!
I have no idea how old Crust was, we guessed maybe 15 years or so. Who knows how old he was when he passed. He’s one of those cats with lots of secrets we will never know. I got the call while I was at work, Jake came home from work and found Mr. Seymour Crusty had passed away. He looked to have fallen asleep quite peacefully in a soft, fuzzy, plush bed. His little heart just gave out. We understood this might happen but we always hope to be with them to help them leave us and be there to say our goodbyes. It doesn’t happen often, but at the time he was the second cat we found deceased and did not plan for. This is never a good feeling. Looking back on all of the photos and videos though helps us know we did right by him. He had a nice retirement here with us. We have no regrets. We like to think he enjoyed our snacks more than Frito crumbs!
He loved the sun, as most senior cats do.
Classic photo of him, just a wee bit of snot coming from his nose!
G.G.
G.G. at the clinic, right by the door, greeting everyone.
G.G. was originally named Gabrielle, but to us she was always G.G. or just simply, Geeg! Gabrielle was cute but a bit too formal for her once we got to know her. Boy oh boy, sometimes those oldies but goodies come along, and you don’t know them for very long, but they really stick with you, this could not be more true than with our little Geeg!
Gabrielle lived the first 17 years of her life as an outdoor only cat and lived outside of a local daycare center. She had kittens, made it through cold winters, blistering hot Georgia summers, survived the parking lot, and was exposed to loads of children but then the day came where the daycare facility was set to close and G.G. would no longer have someone to care for her. I do not recall why the individual that cared for her all these years could not keep her, but I feel like it was a situation where the husband said “no” to bringing her home. She was 17 years old when she came to us and became our clinic cat.
Asking for lap time from Jake, a.k.a. buttering him up.
Becoming an indoor only cat did not seem to be a bothersome lifestyle change for Geeg, in fact, I think she was like, “Finally, I’ve been waiting so damn long for someone to bring me in!” She would sit at the door to the clinic and look out the window but never tried to escape, she could’ve cared less. We could hold the door open, and clients would freak that she might get out and she would just sit there, like “Nope, I’m good, take your time”. Being a clinic cat with us was not all that bad. Her medical needs were met, she was immediately put on heartworm and flea prevention, started being treated for arthritis and kidney disease, you name it, we would do it. These were not “blood donor cats” that lived in cages, they were family; they were not even up for adoption because we took care of them like they were ours and we were attached.
G.G. and Mr. Seymour Crusty at the clinic.
On the exam table at the clinic, posing. She could still jump!
Geeg, Fluff and Crust chillin' in a sunbeam!
Over the years the clinic cat family grew, and she had a few gentleman callers that moved in too, Mr. Seymour Crusty and Fluffy! You’ll hear their stories next! But Little Geeg was AMAZING!! She was a super sweet greeter cat, we used her for medicating lessons because she was such a compliant little lady, she had a hilarious personality and even let the kids that visited the clinic pet her and faun all over her. She was BEYOND patient. I guess all those years on the streets living among the hustle and bustle really does help make some of these cats some of the coolest. They are not quite the same when they grow up in the little bubble that is our homes, no life experience!
Playing doctor. Look at how patient she was with them!
We thought at 17 she might be a short-term commitment, but the months passed, and she kept on ticking. Clinic life was not bad to them, we had plenty of snacks, soft cushy bedding, heating pads, toys and she still played-oh you bet! But it wasn’t a home, and it was “hard” meaning that all of the surfaces are so hard. Hard floors, no carpet, soft bedding but no couch or armchair, no fireplace, none of those little luxuries. Every year for Thanksgiving our clinic would close for the week and the staff would take turns coming in to care for the three clinic cats. One year the doctor decided to travel so only two of us were left to share this responsibility. I decided that I would bring them home for the week, set them up in a room and allow them to be in a home and cozy and in turn make my life easier. Twenty-six mile commuting ONE WAY for 25 years, well let’s just say I’m WAY over it. I was over it back then, really over it now. It really ruined the “week off”, but alas, I drive for ethics.
Sunning Geeg!
Not dead, I swear, happy, relaxied in the sun!
These guys were just so chill, and so easy-going, that well, by the end of the week they were loose in the house, and no one cared! They were sleeping on dog beds by the fire, totally cool with our three large dogs, which was impressive and integrating with the cats quite nicely. Anyone want to guess what happened next? Well, we had no clinic cats after that week, I adopted all three of them! Who here is surprised, no one! I just couldn’t bring them back!
Enjoying the screened porch!
Screen porch time with her main squeeze, Mr. Crusty!
Geeg reminded us of the senior citizens that walk Lenox mall. She would make laps around our kitchen bar like “old folks at the mall”. And we’d say that to her, “You doin’ laps at Lenox again, G.G.?” It was so cute, like she was getting in her steps. She was 19 years old when I committed to her, so she was on a laundry list of umpteen number of meds and SQ fluids of course, appetite stimulants and junky cat food. So, while she totally learned to forage (that’s right naysayers-19 years old and learned to forage) she had ”room service” in her special purple bathroom. She was so in routine she would bolt ahead of us knowing it was time for her Fancy Feast! We would let her eat her junk food and then let her back out and she was quite content with this routine.
This is what we mean when we say, "Googly!"
Cat Stoller! That's right, great activity for seniors!
She was what Jake and I call, “googly”. Scrumptious little square muzzle and big googly eyeballs that always made her look so freakin’ cute. She also reminded us of our sweet, dear, Mammas (Asia) and swear they could have been sisters. I have a lot of terrible photos of G.G. because she never stopped moving. I have blurry side by side pics with Mammas, and all kinds of pics with half her face cut off. There are only a few good ones in this post! She was impossible to photograph. She only left us with our memories.
She lived her for 11 months. We let her go one month shy of what was estimated to be her 20th birthday. I barely knew her three years but I gotta tell ya, she gave us a very special three years. I have video of her foraging, playing with wand toys, cuddling with the other cats. She came here to retire but she lived it up! It was my pleasure Gegeers! Glad we had the chance to know you! Once again, we were the lucky ones.
Finally, a soft sofa! She waited her whole life for this.
Enjoying the screen porch. No more fighting for her life, just relaxing watching birds.
Ferorcious Geeg! Complete with spooky spiders on her collar.
Tortie train!
Look at that little lady!
Albert
Professional photo shoot pics. He made it into this family just in time for this shoot!
Oh dear, I’m not even sure if I should tell Albert’s full story. Albert was one of the MANY clinic cats at the first cat clinic I worked in, as you can see, that job filled up my house! I started that job with five cats, when I left, I had 16 and three dogs! Albert came to us from Cherokee County Humane Society and because he was a large, long-haired cat, ya know, he was a “Maine Coon!” No, he wasn’t. So many people think they have a Maine Coon, and I am here to tell you that most of the time you have a long-haired cat with stripes, and please ignore the “M” on the forehead, it’s an old wives tale! Lots of tabby cats have those. This is a bit of a pet peeve, no you likely do not have a Russian Blue, you have a grey Domestic Shorthair, and you know what? Your cat is still awesome and beautiful!
But it was Albert’s looks that got him pulled out of the shelter, so good for him! He was a handsome beast in his early years, no doubt. He was brought to our clinic because he was FIV+. FIV stands for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, and it is not a death sentence. It is spread via “extreme transmission of blood and saliva” so mostly a disease of fighting, unneutered male cats and sometimes transmitted via birth. I will not go into all of the details of the disease, but he came to us because most shelters and rescues back then were still euthanizing cats like Albert or keeping them separated from other cats. At our clinic we understood the disease and he was permitted to live freely and have friends, we had multiple FIV+ cats up for adoption and did our best to educate the public and find these guys good homes. We truly set the example and even had a bonded FIV+ pair as our greeter cats at the front desk.
Livin' the clinic life rockin' his wooly-bear phase of his lioncut.
At the clinic.
With his new tailess sister, Peaches! OMG! How cute are they together.
A bit bedraggled post bath. Someone needs to be combed.
Problem was, Albert never found his forever people. He was a bit of a grumpy Gus, got along with some cats but was not what you would call easy going, and he would occasionally spray. Oh, that is a fun story! One day while cleaning a bottom cage in the treatment room, he walked right up behind me, turned around and sprayed the back of me, yup, that’s right! We all had a laugh, changed my scrub top and moved on! I can’t believe I almost forgot to share this part of his story.
We liked to call this his beached whale pose! Haha!
Cats with FIV have weakened immune systems, just like people with HIV. So, they succumb to things like URI’s (upper respiratory infections), gingivitis/stomatitis and often have very unhealthy mouths requiring dental cleanings and extractions and RINGWORM! The latter was Albert’s challenge. That also likely hindered his ability to find a home. As the groomer at this clinic, I was regularly in charge of his dermatological care. This involved lion-cuts, anti-fungal baths, Lyme Dips (YUM!), as well as topical and oral medications to treat the fungus and his itchies. He was amazingly tolerant of this.
Charcoal's like, "What are you doing, dude?"
Quite the stunning coat for a cat with chronic ringworm!
Albert became one of the “core” residents. We had about 15 or so cats, of the 55-60 that were up for adoption, that never really left. They got looked at, but no one ever took them home (except staff) or they lived out their life there. Mind you, life wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a home, but it wasn’t terrible. They had cat trees and scratching posts galore! We had a HUGE screened in porch and Albert pretty much lived out there. We also had windows in every room that went straight to the floor, so they always got to look outside and get sunbeams. The bedding was ridiculous, it was not hard to find a plush place to nap. We of course had troughs of dry food for everyone (we followed the environment of plenty rule) but they got wet food EVERYDAY. For a privately owned practice with so many residents, that is pretty much unheard of. They received monthly heartworm prevention and flea control, quarterly deworming, lab work as needed and if they required it, daily meds.
He was right at home on our living room rug!
He was quite the specimen wasn't he?
Yea, he looks inebriated here. He was boozin' it up on the holiday!
When it came time for me to move on, there were two residents left that just killed me to leave behind. Charlotte (affectionately called Snarlett) I successfully placed with a fantastic family who we still see to this day! But Albert was left behind. I thought about him every day. Then I heard that the new owner of the clinic didn’t want the burden of the clinic cats and that some of them were being shipped to her other clinic to live a life in cages and be blood donor cats. The same would be true for some left behind at this office. If they were senior or had medical problems well, I feared the worse! Albert, being FIV+ was a goner in my opinion. Certainly not going to be a blood donor with FIV. This is where I should probably stop sharing but here it goes.
Just so handsome!
I love this one, so many great captions!
I contacted my last hope at the clinic, the only one who stayed after we all abandoned the ship and told her I wanted to come get him. We planned a night for me to drive over there after work, they stayed open later than my current practice, a night when the docs were gone…She let me in the back door and I swiftly went to the grooming room, it had been my room for many years after all and I had only been gone for about two weeks. Everything was where I left it. I proceeded to fine Bert as we affectionately called him, donned my grooming apron and an anti-fungal bath was in full swing! No way I was bringing him home all gross. Now I realize bringing a cat with chronic ringworm into my house was a bit of a crazy crapshoot, but I will honestly tell you that Albert’s worm was his own special recipe. He never gave it to anyone, I never got it from him, nor did the staff, nor did any of our other pets.
So, it’s not like I broke in or anything, but it was a covert rescue mission, and it was successful!
Bert fit in just fine here, he was used to a multi-cat environment and honestly, we had some spraying back then and that is not a deal breaker for us. Clean it up, move on. But he was a really good boy, he even meshed with the dogs. We all brought our dogs to the clinic for care, so he was no stranger to canines. But what was super cute was seeing him with Peaches!! OMG, had they both not been spayed and neutered could you imagine the amazingly cute kittens they would have had!! They were twinsies with the exception that she had no tail.
Ok, they were huge, but adorbs.
In my veterinary career, rarely have I seen a cat actually die of complications to being FIV+, in fact, I can only think of one other cat that succumbed to it specifically. FIV is not a death sentence, so many of these cats live long lives and die of something else like good old-fashioned kidney disease, but not Albert, the FIV finally got him in the end. It was really weird. His RBC count was so low at one point he really should not have been able to walk but he was still motoring around the house and still eating. We treated each and every condition as it arose, and he too was victim to my poly-pharmacy treatment protocols. He did well for a long time, but on his last days we let him out in the yard to enjoy the grass and flowers. You can see in the photos the ringworm all over his little nose and his bib is wet from constantly drinking so much. These were the “strictly indoor” days when we did not do leash and harness walks, catios or stroller rides. I always felt it was important to let them go outside in their final days and that made me think…”I bet they would have enjoyed this more when they felt better and were healthy” and so that is partially how the change began. I am now a big proponent of allowing cats safe, supervised outdoor access (if they enjoy it) as it significantly improves their quality of life. Live and learn.
Labs say he shouldn't be alive, but so strong he was still walking around the yard.
Bert wasn’t with us too long about 4 years or so, but I have always felt so good about going back and scooping him up even if it was a little bit of a secret mission. No one noticed he was gone, no one cared, but I did, and my caring changed Albert’s life and probably saved it too. Love you, you grumpy Gus! We always loved your spiciness!
At least he felt what is was like to be in a home, even if just for a little while.
RIP Albert.
Yukon
Yukon during his professional photo shoot! Soakin' up the love.
Yukon was yet another animal found by my previous employer. She was pretty good at filling up our household! She lived far from the clinic in North Georgia and found Yukon laying near a tombstone in a graveyard in Elijay, Georgia, on Yukon Road…All of the first three dogs were named after the streets they were found on. Yukon was emaciated, absolutely covered in ticks, not neutered, no collar, no microchip, nothing. My rule of thumb has always been that if it is obvious that some effort was made to take good care of them, meaning they are spayed and neutered, in relatively good health and have some form of identification, then we would always try to find the original owner. In Yukon’s case, as with so many, it did not look as though returning him to where he came from was in his best interest. We like to think it was one of those tragic stories where he was laying by my master’s grave, but we will never know. He was a young dog, barely a year old and was likely just lost and happened to be resting there.
First week home all scrawny and moth eaten fur.
Look at how gross his ears were!
Now, of course we didn’t “need” him, but clearly, I LOVE BIG dogs and Grant and Maple were not exactly big, so I saw this as my chance to finally have a BIG dog! A few of the other staff were interested in adopting him as well, but I had first dibs, and it didn’t take more than a meet and greet with our crew to know we were keeping him. Oh, that first night home…the TICKS!!! They just kept falling off of him, it was so gross. The dog must have had 100 plus ticks on him.
We joke that this was as close as either got to being caged shelter dogs.
Yukon and Grant became fast friends, in fact, Grant was the only dog that Yukon would wrestle and play with. No matter how many friends’ dogs we introduced Yukon to, he would not spar with any of them. Being a German Shepard, he was easy to train, and all three dogs learned basic and advanced obedience as well as agility training, we even dabbled with a splash of nose work but didn’t stick with it. Yukon loved big soccer balls from the start! We regularly purchased new ones as his jaws were so enormous, he could put his whole mouth around the ball and just puncture it! We went through a lot of soccer balls. He also liked to catch Frisbees! For such a big guy he was quite active and agile. He got along great with the cats, and they loved to snuggle into and groom his fuzzy coat.
At the grandparents for the holidays.
A sleepy pack.
At a friend's house visiting with their doggie friend, Cosmo.
Fireman Nilius to the resuce!
All three of these dogs traveled home with us to visit family, it was amazing to have such a substantial pack of dogs and they were all welcomed wherever they went. It was really nice. Yukon was definitely the “good boy” of the two big boys however, and he got to go do a few things that Grant could not because Grant was naughtier! For example, he enjoyed the Atlanta Dogwood festival, Grant would have lifted his leg on every booth and piece of furniture and art for sale, but Corny was a perfect gentleman! He had many nicknames, Yukon Cornelius, Corny, or Nilius, the nicknames are endless here at our house. Remember Yukon Cornelius from Rudolph? Totally him, “sniff, sniff, sniff, nothing!” Haha!
I could walk all three of these guys in a perfect “heel” on my left and push the cats in the cat stroller at the same time! We taught them “left” and ”right” training commands and we would all turn a corner together it was quite cool to see! They were quite the team. Very intimidating crew and when our friend’s Old English Bulldog came over for us to pet sit, watch out, no one would enter our yard with these dogs! We were safe.
Yukon was also a really good patient. I can recall one day, just playing in the yard he sliced open his back paw pad on a slate flagstone on our sidewalk. Oh, the blood shed! This was my chance to learn to suture! I did as much as I could on my own to save money and to avoid carting the 100# dog up to the cat practice! The vet I worked with was like, “oh you can do it!” She literally folded up two towels, we took some old suture and she quickly reviewed “simple continuous” suture pattern. I did it side by side with her and then brought my example home and sat it beside me while I worked. We gave him some pain meds, cleaned the wound, and stitched him right up! What a very good boy!
So well behaved on our walks.
Performing minor surgery at home in the living room!
What a team! They have all just had their monthly bath and blow dry!
I remember one day when Jake was mowing the grass in the backyard, a very brave UPS driver tried to deliver a package to our front door, the dogs were all on the back deck, until they weren’t! Jake looked up to see a man, outside of the fence of the front yard who had taken his shirt off and was waving it like a flag. Jake stopped mowing the grass and could hear the dogs barking. The three of them had pinned the UPS man on our front step. They didn’t bite him, but they sure as hell were not letting him leave! Jake came up to the front to diffuse the situation and the UPS man safely exited the yard. The guy who had take his shirt off was standing there talking to them and Grant came up and snatched the shirt out of his hands and started running around the yard with it playing keep away. They were a mess, but I never feared being alone in this house while those three beasts were on the job.
One morning, when he was only four years old, he went out the back door to pee, laid down and would not get back up. We hadn’t a clue what was wrong. He was to become the first of our dogs to have a major issue. I rushed him over to the super folks as Northlake Veterinary Surgery, at that time, they were still Northlake Veterinary Specialists and had an internist on site. Yukon’s ultrasound showed a ruptured splenic mass, and he needed emergency surgery. He was the first of what has become an absolutely horrible trend of ruptured spleens. It is a big dog thing, and we have lost multiple dogs to this now. So, he had surgery, and the biopsy results came back as an “undifferentiated sarcoma”. It was explained to me at the time that this meant the cancer cells were so immature they had not yet turned into a definitive type of cancer, so we had no idea what we were dealing with, how to treat it and he was given 3 months to live.
We have used this crate to "hospitalize" dogs and cats when needed.
Note the IV catheter, we have done some pretty intense nursing care here at home.
We spoiled him, he got all the frisbees and soccer balls we could buy, fed him the single most expensive prescription food Hill’s makes called n/d (neoplasia diet), we took hikes, went on our walks (he would carry the frisbees ALL THE WAY back home after we went to the field to play, so precious). And the months and years passed…we really do not know what happened, but we suspect we either got stupid lucky which is not our luck, or the samples got screwed up at the lab. Yukon lived to be about 11 years old with a whole host of other problems that got him. Grant later had a ruptured spleen and due to our success with Yukon we proceeded with Grant’s surgery with hope, but he only survived a few days post op.
Yukon had a chance to get old, not that I am convinced that is all that awesome, but it was better than being ripped away from us at age four! In his senior years he developed Degenerative Myelopathy (DM) an extremely common condition of German Shepard Dogs affecting the spine, this would slowly paralyze him over time. Our wonderful surgeon said to me regarding exercise and taking it easy. “If you were Yukon, wouldn’t you rather go out catching your frisbee versus living sedentary in a bubble?” Ok, ok, that made sense, we continued to play on! We were going to let him go out with a bang and a splash of acupuncture, Chinese tea pills and a whole host of other potions and antioxidants and joint support. You name it, he got it. There is a reason we didn’t go out and do much with our friends during these 20 years, we were busy nursing a home full of broken pets and that is where every dime went too!
Wearing his Help'em Up Harness and Piddle Pants. Looking at this pic you can see why we forged on with care!
Via agility training they learned to jump and climb.
Majestic!
Passers by were in awe, we did these jumps on our daily walks!
But wait, there is more. Yukon developed ASS CANCER! Yep, that’s right, at this point, no holding back and being appropriate. It is a good thing he was such a cooperative patient because the vet visits and at home blood draws for rechecks, wow it was a lot. I will spare you the photos and boy do I have some doozies! I literally biopsied the mass at home, I applied lidocaine to the area, lanced it and squeezed out a whole bunch of delicious gunk (you vet techs out there get me, we like gross things), and sent off the sample. I forget what type of cancer it came back as at this point. It didn’t matter, he was eating and drinking and maintaining his weight, he just couldn’t easily defecate on his own once the masses got so large as they were obstructing his anus. So, guess what I did every night for 9 months? Came home from work, put his back legs in the bathtub, scooped out his poops and flushed them down, washed his tush and put on fresh pants! I swore I would not put him in piddle pants, but you can see from the photos that I could not avoid it. He was still playing with his soccer balls and could still catch a frisbee, how could I euthanize him? He struggled to stand up but once he was up, he was good to go! The Help ‘Em Up harness is a miracle device if there ever was one, it’s comfortable enough that they can stay in it long term, sleep in it and it is easily washable.
Cold laser treatments, note Mr Custy laying on his tail, little did they know they would soon live together.
The Three Musketeers.
Our annual Fall hike to Red Top Mountain
How could we not keep going with this degree of quality of life?
Robust an at his healthiest.
On top of the world!
In writing this, I have of course reviewed old photos and videos. I have videos of all of the cats gathered around him on his last night, being headbutt by Mammas and Wiccas, a belly flop by Peaches, Hitch laying by his side, but I just don’t have any great pics of him with the cats, they were all friends though. Yukon was an amazing and handsome boy, and we were so lucky he was ours. I admired his resilience and devotion to our family. We miss you Nilius.
The whole team. Maple, Grant and Yukon.
So cute. Watching mommy for commands.
