Cashmere- or Cashie as we called him – was our cat. We had to put him to sleep yesterday, he was in the final stages of renal failure and we didn’t want him suffering. His brother Velvet died a little over two years ago from the same thing, and we probably should have ended his suffering earlier but we didn’t know what was going on.
Cashie and Velvie were the babies my husband brought into our relationship. They were rescue cats that he got when they were little kittens. One of the things Brian worried about before we moved in together was how my son (who was in the 8th or 9th grade at the time) would treat his cats. I think it hurt his feelings a little when Cashie bonded so tightly with my son. He knew when Kenny was coming home, and would wait for him by the door. He usually slept up on Kenny’s bed (until he got too sick to jump up that high).
It really made sense because Cashie preferred to be around guys. He loved to sit around watching video games. The cat also loved hard rock, the louder the better. If my son had the music up too loud, the cat would be in the middle of the room purring. I still believe he glared at me when I told the boy to turn.it.down. That cat had so much personality.
The thing that really aggravated me about him is that he would act like he hated me – unless we were alone. I’m a morning person, so he would get up with me, hang out, and generally be all lovey. Until my husband woke up. Then he ran away from me like I was the devil.
We worked hard to make his last few weeks happy and as comfortable as possible. For the last couple of weeks he had been acting really sluggish, not eating, only drinking water from our bathroom sink, and just looking really bad. In typical Cashie fashion, yesterday he work up acting a little like his old self. I’m glad that is what I have to remember him by. Silly cat.
Here’s one of the last pictures I took of him. Diva till the end. I sure am going to miss him. 🙁