Figgy

I'm facing the horrible moment of when I will say goodbye to my cat. I've known for a while that this moment would come, but it's not quite how I imagined it would be. When Darren and I decided to move to New Zealand, we knew there was a great chance Figgy couldn't come with us due to the long trek and the quarantine. Knowing Figgy, the process would be torture for him, and it seemed selfish to make him suffer through all that just to have him with us.

Figgy showed up at one of of the most difficult times in my life. I was living in a city that I hated, in an apartment I had once shared with the boyfriend I had moved to Pittsburgh to be with, and I was all but fired from my job. He was a scruffy very tiny kitten - too small to have climbed the fence around my yard. I took him in and immediately fell in love with him. As he grew, he only became more and more handsome, and definitely a mama's boy.

He came with me as I started my new life in an apartment of my own, and then on the road with me as I worked in Arizona, Dallas, Minneapolis and Hartford. He didn't mind flying at all, but eventually grew weary of all the different hotel rooms that smelled like other people and animals. When I finally settled in Columbia, he tolerated the apartment we first lived in until I could afford to buy more space for him to stretch out.

Figgy has seen me through job losses and break-ups, but also all the good times, too - buying a place of my own, meeting Darren and getting married. Granted, he hated the sound of my crying, and often 'yelled' at me to stop or bit me, but he always cuddled with me when I needed him. Figs often acts like a dog - he runs to the door when I get home, follows me from room to room, and will not go upstairs to bed until I do. At night, he lays on my chest while I pet him, and then curls up by my feet.

Over the past few months, Darren and I have been trying to figure out who could take Figgy. I've had him all of his 10 years, and I know all his quirks. How could I be sure that someone else would love him as much as I do? How could I be sure that they would remember not to trap him when vacuuming or to tell the vet he doesn't like a towel placed over his head, even if he is acting up? And what about those late-night urges to cuddle while purring super-loud? Would a stranger (or even a friend) put up with that? Most of our friends were ruled out because they already had cats or dogs - Figgy is very dominant and doesn't get along with other pets very well. This has been a constant source of stress since we booked our tickets to New Zealand.

This weekend, Figgy started drooling a lot while after eating or cleaning himself. I noticed the past few weeks that he had not been grooming as well, but figured his fur had just gotten out of hand. Today the vet confirmed my worst fears - Figgy has a cancerous tumor on his jaw, which is partially obstructing his mouth. As time goes on, and the tumor grows, he will have more and more difficulty eating and grooming. He is not in pain now, and he seems to be handling the discomfort ok. Still, I cannot be selfish and drag out his life until he is no longer capable of feeding himself. He is such a strong, big, handsome cat - I cannot see him as a frail sickly cat. The end is very near, and I find it is much more difficult than what I had imagined.

The stress of finding him a home is no longer there, but I feel like my heart is breaking every time I look at him and imagine him as a kitten. I stare at him every moment I'm home, trying to memorize how he looks curled up on the couch, or eating, or how his purr sounds when I'm petting him. I want to soak up every last moment with him before I have to let him go.

*sigh* You'd think I'd have run out of tears by now. =(

Ok, now for more pictures: