Timothy is deceased.
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Timothy [a.k.a. Timmy, Timmy-Tee, Mr. Tee, The Tee Man]

Timmy and his littermate, Kimmy, came to me together one spring when I was in the mood to bring another kitten home. The Humane Society had more kittens than they could place in homes and there was a brother and sister from one litter that were destined to be destroyed the next day
if someone didn't take them. Well, they were a perfectly matched set and everyone knows that you can't split up a matched set, so I took home Timmy and Kimmy.
Once they were home, uncle Simon decided that he would take them under his wing and show them the ropes of getting along in the Hagerty cat-house. It was hysterical to watch fat, ol' Simon running up and down the stairs trying to keep up with these two lightening-fast little beasties.
One time, Simon ran out of steam as the group of them was running through the living room. He flopped down on the floor and Timmy and Kimmy decided to lie down beside him. I was cleaning dishes at the time and I heard a strange slurping sound. I looked up to see Simon (a fat, neutered male) lying on his back with Timmy and Kimmy trying to nurse from Simon's exposed belly. Simon opened his eyes wide with alarm at first, but as he began to realize that what was happening didn't seem to hurt or anything, he relaxed and let the kittens try to nurse. Timmy and Kimmy only continued this behavior for a week or so until they realized that it didn't accomplish anything for them, then they quit doing it.
25 October 2001: Wednesday (the 24th) I came home to find Timmy lying on his side, weak and panting. He would get up to go have a drink of water, then lie down again. He seemed to have little appetite and only nibbled a little of his food. It was clear that he was having problems, but it was late in the evening and much too late to get to the vet. I usually get to work long before the vet's office opens, so I called from work and they gave me an appointment that day (Thursday, the 25th). I left work early and took Timmy there an hour before the appointment and they brought us in immediately.
Well, I won't go into too much detail but Timmy was in a very bad way. Cancer seemed to be the main problem. They didn't think there was any chance that he could be treated and restored to anything resembling a healthy condition. I couldn't watch him suffer.
I held Timmy and stroked his soft, smooth fur while the vet gave him a sedative. The sedative was supposed to calm him and make the second, lethal injection painless. As the sedative began to take effect Timmy gave a caugh, then stopped breathing. He was so weak and near death that they never needed the lethal injection. At 3:30 in the afternoon of Thursday, October 25th, Timmy died while I held him.
You need to know something about Timmy and his issues with being held. Timmy and Kimmy were borderline feral. They both had issues with being held: Kimmy could be held if you were careful, but Timmy would disembowel anyone foolish enough to try to hold him -- it just weren't gonna happen. He would sit beside me and let me pet him; he would lie beside me on my bed; and later in life, he would even put one or both front paws on my legs as I sat, but he would never get completely in my lap. For all the twelve and a half years he was with me I only got to hold Timmy to say goodbye.

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