by Casey Rea
The kitten in the pic, Loki, had to be put down at 3:30 this morning.
He was having incredibly severe and frightening seizures that were gaining frequency and intensity.
He would go comatose for a few hours and then he'd suddenly start hurling himself into walls, the stove, etc. He had absolutely no control over his own body. It was horrific to watch. He was drooling and howling and spitting up bile.
We took him to the emergency vet and decided that since this last outbreak was so much worse than the one on Sunday, that there was a very serious problem and little alternative.
The vet explained that there's not really anything that can be done with neurological attacks of this severity in an animal so young (16 weeks).
I have no words to express the bond both myself and Brooke felt with this "little man." He was truly a light to me at a point in my life when I really needed some cheering up. I was his cool dad, and he'd give me face baths, follow me around and even help me mix records. He also liked to listen to me play guitar or sing.
I loved him more than anybody can ever imagine. He had more personality and charm than most of the humans I know. And he was furry, too.
It's hard looking around my apartment and seeing the food dishes and litter box, not to mention all the little toys he used to play with.
I've suffered some serious losses this year; I never expected that I'd lose this guy so soon.
Just needed to get that off my chest.