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Description
RIP Ming (aka Mink, since his fur looked like a mink coat). Ming was originally found several years ago outside at my sister-in-law's house, ~Fubelle , skinny, covered in fleas and starving. She lives out in the country so cats are attracted to her house since she has other kitties and food is always in the garage. She could hear his painful meows and went outside to try and lure him him. She was able to catch him, clean him up and bring him inside for feeding.

Having always wanted a Siamese, we went to pick him up and brought him home. We got him to the vet where he was tested for Feline Leukemia and other things, as well as getting his shots and having him fixed.

Ming thrived for a few years but got sick again. After being at the ER for animals (open at night), he was transferred to the personal vet and was in and out a few times before getting better. He seemed to be back to his irascible self when he got sick again around Thanksgiving in the US. He was at the Vet's for a few days and got fluids, medication and had tests done. The vet thought Ming had Intestinal Lymphoma but didn't test for cancer, instead testing for many other things. When Ming was picked up all we knew was that he had had an infection. After another week of steroids and antibiotics he slowly got better and started to ask for his favorite canned food (he would go over to where it was kept and look at it then look at me, then look at the food, then look at me, so it was obvious what he was asking for), playing and wanting laps and beds.

Then he took a turn for the worse this past Monday early AM and within two days he had slowly passed away. Steve put him in the kitty bed, but he got out and slowly made his way, inches at a time over the nigh, to under the chair in the dining where he loved to lay. For some odd reason he loved being under chairs or the couch.

Storm got up on the chair where Ming lay and didn't move until after he passed. Simba was just a foot away. Steve and I watched him as he took his last breath, so Ming was never alone.

He was around seven or eight-years old, the vet saying he could have been two or three when he was found. Am thankful he was able to have some years of a normal life before he "went back home".

Description
RIP Ming (aka Mink, since his fur looked like a mink coat). Ming was originally found several years ago outside at my sister-in-law's house, ~Fubelle , skinny, covered in fleas and starving. She lives out in the country so cats are attracted to her house since she has other kitties and food is always in the garage. She could hear his painful meows and went outside to try and lure him him. She was able to catch him, clean him up and bring him inside for feeding.

Having always wanted a Siamese, we went to pick him up and brought him home. We got him to the vet where he was tested for Feline Leukemia and other things, as well as getting his shots and having him fixed.

Ming thrived for a few years but got sick again. After being at the ER for animals (open at night), he was transferred to the personal vet and was in and out a few times before getting better. He seemed to be back to his irascible self when he got sick again around Thanksgiving in the US. He was at the Vet's for a few days and got fluids, medication and had tests done. The vet thought Ming had Intestinal Lymphoma but didn't test for cancer, instead testing for many other things. When Ming was picked up all we knew was that he had had an infection. After another week of steroids and antibiotics he slowly got better and started to ask for his favorite canned food (he would go over to where it was kept and look at it then look at me, then look at the food, then look at me, so it was obvious what he was asking for), playing and wanting laps and beds.

Then he took a turn for the worse this past Monday early AM and within two days he had slowly passed away. Steve put him in the kitty bed, but he got out and slowly made his way, inches at a time over the nigh, to under the chair in the dining where he loved to lay. For some odd reason he loved being under chairs or the couch.

Storm got up on the chair where Ming lay and didn't move until after he passed. Simba was just a foot away. Steve and I watched him as he took his last breath, so Ming was never alone.

He was around seven or eight-years old, the vet saying he could have been two or three when he was found. Am thankful he was able to have some years of a normal life before he "went back home".