RIP Ricky Bobby

On Saturday evening, we were making dinner in the kitchen when we heard a very loud, very annoyed "MEOW" coming from the living room. Ricky was under my desk and when he tried to crawl out, his back legs were dragging. He didn't seem to be in any pain, so we thought we would wait and see, maybe he would start using them again. By Sunday night, he was still just laying around inside his house, again, not in any pain, but not wanting to move much. I took him out to use the bathroom and he just dragged himself around.

So first thing this morning, I took him to the vet while David stayed here with the kids (and Tristan who had spent the night). The vet said it was a blood clot that had lodged in his back where the leg bones separate, and there was no pulse in either leg. Sadly, there isn't much they can do for it. They could operate, but it was pretty much guaranteed that it would happen again, and who knows when. They recommended he be put to sleep as soon as possible.

I did get to bring Ricky home to let the kids say goodbye, and for one last little nap in Bailey's bed. Riley is very upset by the whole thing, Regan really wanted to see him get the shot. She wants to be a vet when she grows up so she finds it all fascinating, even though she's sad too, she sees an educational viewpoint to it.

She went with me to bring Ricky back, we dropped him off and didn't stay for the shot, I don't think I could have handled that. And now our house just seems so much quieter and emptier without good old Ricky Bobby. He was definitely a unique cat, not the lovey-ist cat, but it was like he had a different personality for each of us. With me he was all love and cuddles, especially at night. With David, he bit his arm every night before bed, but loved on him profusely in the mornings. A lot of times he would sneak into Riley's bed with him, and let Riley love on him like he let no one else. And Regan was the only one he let carry him around like a doll. I would pick him up and he would scratch my eyes out. Regan picked him up and he let her haul him around like a stuffed animal.

We know he's in a better place now, and I bet he's giving Jake and Miller a good chase up in heaven.

Ricky when we first got him, he would have been 3 years old this week:


Ricky with a makeshift hat, he was a good sport about it:

Today, trying to drag his legs: