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Old November 6th, 2012, 08:49
avyron avyron is offline
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Default six months on, I cant stop grieving...



I will never forget the day I first saw Mojo. He was walking down the garden path with huge fluffy cheeks and a painfully thin body. I put my hand on the door handle and remember hoping he would not run off if I opened the door. I needn’t have worried; the second I touched the door handle he stopped and looked at me and when I went outside he trotted over and greeted me.

We only had some cat biscuits at the time and I offered him a few. He was too shy to let me touch him, but let me sit and watch him eat the food. I counted all his ribs and his hips stuck out. One ear was torn and his face was covered in old fight scars. When he finished the food he trotted off up the garden, pausing only to spray our plants.

A few days later he was back, and I offered him some more food. He was obviously a stray or at the very least very neglected and soon he popped round every morning for food, before disappearing again. Over the next few weeks, his visits became longer, he would stay and wash his paws and face first, then he would stay for a few mins by the fireplace before departing. I could touch him now, and every morning he greeted he with his chirps and mauwing. I nicknamed him “the silver cat” due to his grey fur.

Unable to find an owner, I put a collar on with a note asking if his owner could phone me, thinking that they would at least remove it if he had a home. The collar remained. After a couple more weeks, he was now visiting a few times a day, so one day I shut him inside and the next I took him to be neutered. He had no microchip, so I chipped him and took him in.

A few days after his operation, he managed to escape; he disappeared for over a week and I was crestfallen. I had only known him a few weeks, but he had already made a deep impression. I was always up at the crack of dawn waiting, and my days were tearful.

Eight days later he returned unharmed, and from that day he never once left my side. The bond between us was strong and I eventually named him “Mojo” a name meaning “magic” and “wanderer” which suited him to the ground. Every morning he woke me up, every night he slept on my pillow or touching me. If I went out, he followed and waited round the corner until I returned, greeting me with his characteristic “barks.”

He started following me to my other half’s place, but would stop halfway and cry pitifully as he did not want to go so far. I often picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. He became close friends with my Oh’s house cat. Joy Joy, and he schemed with him; holding the door open so he would be let into the garden, and afterwards, Joy Joy would leave him *** bits as payment.

He followed me and my OH everywhere and would cry if we argued, going from one to the other until we made up and comforting us when we were upset.

People often commented on his behaviour, and more than once they would say “I don’t know what it is, but there is something special about Moj” and there truly was. Never have I known a cat or any animal to show such devotion, loyalty and love, and he was like a little guardian angel.

Unfortunately, his time was limited from the start; he suddenly became forlorn and depressed, and was unable to settle. He stopped eating and drinking and, suspecting a possible tooth problem, I booked him in at the vets. That morning I stroked him and felt lumps on both sides of his body. The vet bills for getting tests done were too high, and I had not long ago had my savings stolen from me, so with a heavy heart I brought him back home. Once home I began ringing charities and various organisations and friends asking for help, to be turned down one by one. I entered a plea for help on the forums and got support and advice as well as an amazing offer.

That night we did not sleep and sat up crying and holding him, I knew he was dying and the helplessness was overwhelming. In the morning I got a reply from the Celia Hammond centre who said they could help. We took Moj on the bus and train to the centre in Lewisham as his last hope. He perked up on the journey looking out the windows and looking genuinely content, despite the terrible weather – pouring rain and strong winds! At the centre, the vet felt his sides and warned us that it was bad, but offered to do the tests and ultrasound anyway in the hope there was something we could do to help, or at least get a diagnosis.

Waiting was terrible, watching others bring in and take away their pets with a horrible bitterness that my Mojo was not likely to make it. Our fears were realised when the tests came back. Mojo had both FIV (feline HIV) and leukemia and had most likely contracted it before his neuter. As a result, he had massive tumors in both kidneys, resulting in kidney failure. There was nothing left but to let him go.

Sobbing, me and my OH held him, stroked him and spoke to him as he took his last breath and departed this world.

We brought his body home and I combed his fur, wrapping him up in a blanket with his favourite things and laying his body to rest in his spot in the garden.

I will never forget Mojo, who came to us already marked, and we never knew he was fated to die so young. He was four years old and with us for less than three, but he left us the most happy memories and he will always be remembered in our hearts.

Run free Mojo, I will never forget you, and all you did in your short life for me. You were and will always be our little guardian angel. Sleep tight xx



It is just one day shy of six months from his untimely passing and I just feel unable to stop grieving for him. I talk to his photo on the wall, continuously dream of him returning, or rewinding to have him cured then snatched away from me in some other vile way. Sometimes I feel angry with him, then guilty for feeling angry and with desperate urges to just hold him or see him again. I cant stand the thought of his body in the ground.

These feelings, though people respond with "he was just a cat" are simply encompassing my every moment and it is driving me mad. He was not "just a cat" he was my Mojo.
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  #2  
Old November 6th, 2012, 14:09
gumek gumek is offline
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Default not jist a cat

Quote:
Originally Posted by avyron View Post


I will never forget the day I first saw Mojo. He was walking down the garden path with huge fluffy cheeks and a painfully thin body. I put my hand on the door handle and remember hoping he would not run off if I opened the door. I needn’t have worried; the second I touched the door handle he stopped and looked at me and when I went outside he trotted over and greeted me.

We only had some cat biscuits at the time and I offered him a few. He was too shy to let me touch him, but let me sit and watch him eat the food. I counted all his ribs and his hips stuck out. One ear was torn and his face was covered in old fight scars. When he finished the food he trotted off up the garden, pausing only to spray our plants.

A few days later he was back, and I offered him some more food. He was obviously a stray or at the very least very neglected and soon he popped round every morning for food, before disappearing again. Over the next few weeks, his visits became longer, he would stay and wash his paws and face first, then he would stay for a few mins by the fireplace before departing. I could touch him now, and every morning he greeted he with his chirps and mauwing. I nicknamed him “the silver cat” due to his grey fur.

Unable to find an owner, I put a collar on with a note asking if his owner could phone me, thinking that they would at least remove it if he had a home. The collar remained. After a couple more weeks, he was now visiting a few times a day, so one day I shut him inside and the next I took him to be neutered. He had no microchip, so I chipped him and took him in.

A few days after his operation, he managed to escape; he disappeared for over a week and I was crestfallen. I had only known him a few weeks, but he had already made a deep impression. I was always up at the crack of dawn waiting, and my days were tearful.

Eight days later he returned unharmed, and from that day he never once left my side. The bond between us was strong and I eventually named him “Mojo” a name meaning “magic” and “wanderer” which suited him to the ground. Every morning he woke me up, every night he slept on my pillow or touching me. If I went out, he followed and waited round the corner until I returned, greeting me with his characteristic “barks.”

He started following me to my other half’s place, but would stop halfway and cry pitifully as he did not want to go so far. I often picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. He became close friends with my Oh’s house cat. Joy Joy, and he schemed with him; holding the door open so he would be let into the garden, and afterwards, Joy Joy would leave him *** bits as payment.

He followed me and my OH everywhere and would cry if we argued, going from one to the other until we made up and comforting us when we were upset.

People often commented on his behaviour, and more than once they would say “I don’t know what it is, but there is something special about Moj” and there truly was. Never have I known a cat or any animal to show such devotion, loyalty and love, and he was like a little guardian angel.

Unfortunately, his time was limited from the start; he suddenly became forlorn and depressed, and was unable to settle. He stopped eating and drinking and, suspecting a possible tooth problem, I booked him in at the vets. That morning I stroked him and felt lumps on both sides of his body. The vet bills for getting tests done were too high, and I had not long ago had my savings stolen from me, so with a heavy heart I brought him back home. Once home I began ringing charities and various organisations and friends asking for help, to be turned down one by one. I entered a plea for help on the forums and got support and advice as well as an amazing offer.

That night we did not sleep and sat up crying and holding him, I knew he was dying and the helplessness was overwhelming. In the morning I got a reply from the Celia Hammond centre who said they could help. We took Moj on the bus and train to the centre in Lewisham as his last hope. He perked up on the journey looking out the windows and looking genuinely content, despite the terrible weather – pouring rain and strong winds! At the centre, the vet felt his sides and warned us that it was bad, but offered to do the tests and ultrasound anyway in the hope there was something we could do to help, or at least get a diagnosis.

Waiting was terrible, watching others bring in and take away their pets with a horrible bitterness that my Mojo was not likely to make it. Our fears were realised when the tests came back. Mojo had both FIV (feline HIV) and leukemia and had most likely contracted it before his neuter. As a result, he had massive tumors in both kidneys, resulting in kidney failure. There was nothing left but to let him go.

Sobbing, me and my OH held him, stroked him and spoke to him as he took his last breath and departed this world.

We brought his body home and I combed his fur, wrapping him up in a blanket with his favourite things and laying his body to rest in his spot in the garden.

I will never forget Mojo, who came to us already marked, and we never knew he was fated to die so young. He was four years old and with us for less than three, but he left us the most happy memories and he will always be remembered in our hearts.

Run free Mojo, I will never forget you, and all you did in your short life for me. You were and will always be our little guardian angel. Sleep tight xx



It is just one day shy of six months from his untimely passing and I just feel unable to stop grieving for him. I talk to his photo on the wall, continuously dream of him returning, or rewinding to have him cured then snatched away from me in some other vile way. Sometimes I feel angry with him, then guilty for feeling angry and with desperate urges to just hold him or see him again. I cant stand the thought of his body in the ground.

These feelings, though people respond with "he was just a cat" are simply encompassing my every moment and it is driving me mad. He was not "just a cat" he was my Mojo.
hello friend, your right he isnt just a cat he was your soul mate and buddy, im sorry he got so sick, he looked for someone of his own and he chose you, little mojo was a gift to you. your story made me cry, i have always had cats and they found me, never had to go looking, they just turned up, my hubby used to call them free loading layabouts. my cat bani, hes all i have of my own in the whole world. he was giuls cat but when giuls died bani would come and sit on me when i cry he cuddles into me, when he goes i hope that god will send me another homeless fellow. thank you for sharing your sad story with us, a few of us love animals and it does hurt when we lose them too, some of us understand. take care.

love chrissie. xxx
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  #3  
Old November 6th, 2012, 15:01
Mart Mart is offline
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Old November 6th, 2012, 15:57
hazelharris hazelharris is offline
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hi avyron you have me crying for mojo as well what a story very happy as you found one another or rather mojo found you and sad with his passing you gave him your love and he probably never felt that before you met and never would have if you wern't such a loving caring person that you are i want to thank you for loving mojo there are too many heartbreaking stories of animals neglected and it's only because such kind loving people as yourself that these few animals are given love when they most need it take comfort that mojo was happy with you even though it was for a short while
love hazelxxx
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