Sad news here. My brave, beautiful 21 year old ginger moggy Simon
lost his battle with chronic renal failure yesterday and went to
the bridge. My other 4 cats are visibly upset, and I'm
devastated. He'd become very frail and we all knew he would be
going soon, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Simon had already reached the ripe old age of 17 when he came to
live with me and my furry bunch. His first family were moving
away from Australia permanently, and while they were very upset
at the thought of leaving Simon here, they just felt that the
long trip would have been too much stress for the old fellow and
that letting him stay in a loving home here in Australia would be
the kindest thing for him.

So, four years ago this amazing cat moved into my house and began
walking all over me. I loved it. At the time I had two 10-year
old cats who hung out together, and two 4-year olds who did
likewise. Simon had always been an only cat before, but he took
the youngsters in his stride and soon decided he wanted a
sidekick too and I should be it.

He was rarely far from me. He'd sit on my lap while I watched
telly; if I was out gardening, he'd be sitting within a couple of
yards. It took a while to persuade him to sleep on the bed with
me and the rest of the cats; I'd pick him up and put him on the
bed every night for the first two months, but he'd jump right
off, preferring to sleep on his old blanket instead. But one
night, I was just nodding off to sleep when I heard a little
"plop" sound on the bed next to me, and there was Simon curled up
in the spot that became his from then on.

When Simon stopped eating about 2 years ago, the vet diagnosed
renal failure and recommended what were then quite new tablets
(ACE-inhibitors). Simon was soon hoovering down his tuna again,
and I'm certain the medications not only lengthened his life, but
more importantly improved his quality of life tremendously. He
was able to eat and drink on his own right up until the last
couple of days. Although he got more physically frail as time
progressed, he got better and better at giving orders and would
let me know loudly when it was time to lift him up onto the sofa
or bed.

Only in this last couple of weeks did he start to find it really
difficult to get around. He had no pain, but had little strength
in his back legs and would lose his balance. I've been off work
this last week so was able to help him when he needed to get up
for food or drink.

When I woke up yesterday morning, Simon couldn't get up off the
bed, and the other cats were all meatloafing around him purring
loudly. I knew it would be his last day. I felt he wanted to
spend it at home with his friends around, so I wrapped him in a
blanket and took him into the lounge in front of the fire where I
sat and he lay for most of the day. He retched a couple of times,
and I cleaned his mouth and gave him water through an eye
dropper, but otherwise seemed to be comfortable. He slipped away
so quietly that I barely noticed.

I'll remember him lying in the sun in the backyard, sprawled out
with a big grin on his face. His front legs would be stretched
right out so that he could get every last possible square inch of
golden fur in the sun.

Peace, Simon - may you always find your patch of sun.