Winter passed away in my arms. For many, Winter needs no introduction--he has lovingly been referred to as the "psychotic persian who has sent 14 people to the doctor or hospital for antibiotics," and as "Mr Winter" as in Mr. Sandman (that was his song). One year ago this month he traveled from St. Paul MN to L'burg KY as the agressive 10 month old abused and neglected persian who was going to spend his whole life in a cage at a no-kill shelter. Winter improved here, so much so that we sent him to a new home...where he promptly bit 3 people in one day and was sent back. He was no longer biting us at that point and has not ever again despite the eye cleanings, ear cleanings, constant grooming, and various meds (including Paxil for a while). We decided that Winter should stay here.

He was a very special cat and partly because of his special needs we got more ttached to him as a "lifer" here. We learned to laugh about his "psychotic behavior" and to feel very blessed that for some reason he decided that Rick and I were trustworthy. In fact, when I went to feed him tonight and he was in this horrible state, the minute I touched him he began to purr. Winter really was affectionate and very happy here and he kind of "went out purring," which at some point I suppose I will find comfort in.

Still, I thought Winter was sort of an iron cat in a way. He was very solid and seemed very healthy and I can't imagine why this all happened. Just a few days before he got sick we had talked about how much things had changed, how we actually feared him for a while and now touch him without fear, just as we do any other. Except that Winter got more attention, thank goodness, simply because he HAD to be groomed constantly or he was a big persian mess. I think Winter will come back to me someday, though. Ironically, I picked another special needs cat up today before Winter crashed.

Victoria