Yesterday, my mum came running into the house saying that there was a cat outside of our house, looking very poorly. I ran outside, completely barefooted, and saw the cat; he was stood on our doorstep, crying and shaking. I asked Mum if he was affectionate and she didn’t know, so I walked over to him and stroked him; I could feel all of his ribs. I then picked him up and cuddled him, whilst Mum ran into the house to get come cat food. I put him on the floor next to the food, but he wouldn’t eat it and just kept sniffing it instead, despite his starving look.
we decided to take him to the vets, so I got our spare cat box and put him inside of it, and my boyfriend and I drove him to the vets. We ran in through the front door, plonked the box on top of their desk, and explained where we had found him and his behaviour. They took my name, address and number, and took him in to give him a check over.
He had no microchip, so they couldn’t phone his owners, although they did suggest that they reckoned he was a once loved cat, who had been a stray for a while now. My mum came back the next morning to pick up our cat box and sadly they found that he had kidney failure, which resulted in him having to be put down.
R.I.P
The Temperamental Introvert 