Dereck...that's so sad...I teared up

I don't know what I'd do if I had to put an animal down...it hasn't happened yet and I hope it never does. Tigger sounded like a wonderful little buddy to have had around. God knows neither of my cats could really give a damn about me (as far as they're concerned I live to serve their every whim) but I love them so much, and wouldn't trade them for the world.

Thankfully, Bjorn seems healthy for the most part although he's lost weight and has a quicker temper than he had when he was sighted. But yesterday he cuddled into my lap for the first time in a long time and was purring really loudly. I was so happy because he's been a little cranky for the past couple of weeks, and it's been some time since he's been willingly cuddled.
Harlan, I'm sorry for your cat too...I know how much like family they can be.
I've had only one cat that died, and it was one my friend gave me when it was only one week old. One week! It was still blind and deaf and looked more like a rat than a kitten. He found it near the soccer field in our school and couldn't find anyone to take care of it. So I took it in and my poor mother shouldered the responsibility of waking up in the middle of the night and feeding it with an eyedropper when it cried--and boy did it
cry. (I was only 14, I had school and homework...I couldn't take care of it. My mom said it's like I adopted another baby just for her--like she needed more responsibility.)
It was so cute though! It'd suck on our hands, on the fleshy crevice between the thumb and forefinger. It was toothless so it didn't hurt, but rather tickled the heck out of me. When we stuck the eyedropper full of milk in its mouth, it'd stick its paws out and massage the air, like it would its mother's teat. My friend had christened him "Tiger" because he was white with orange stripes. But he was such a pitiful little thing, so we called him "Miskeen" which is Arabic for "poor thing".
It even opened it's eyes a little! They were shiny and blue. We had it for two weeks. But when we went to visit our relatives in another, much colder, city, we took him with us becuase we had no one else that would take care of him. I guess the temperature change was too much, or he got sick somehow. He started mewling a lot, and white stuff would come out of his mouth. He slowly died in my older sister's hands. We buried him in that city and I cried like a baby. My mother made me promise to never do something like that again, because it kills her to have a creature die in her home and under her care.
Jypsy almost died once too. She was still basically a kitten, and a very curious one at that. We had accidentally dropped an Advil Liqui-Gel caplet on the floor...and she bit right through the plastic and drained the liquid inside. My little sister was the one who found the empty plastic caplet with two vampire-like punctures in it. Jypsy was sooo melancholy...slow to move, slow to eat, breathing funny and sleeping all the time. The cat barely had the strength to drink water, my mother would sometimes dunk her own finger in it and have Jypsy lick it off. Thankfully, she pulled through and was back to her old self the next day.
Who said cats don't have nine lives?
By the way: Harlan, I think I'll ask the vet again sometime if there's a way they can drug Bjorn and still be able to check his eyes. However, he really despises the vet...and when they took a blood test (which wasn't long ago and which told us nothing about his eyes--which was the only thing we wanted to know about) we dished out $400! I want to wait a while before dishing out that much money again. He seems okay for now...lets hope he stays this way. *Crosses fingers*