Eight years ago I had a beautiful Syrian hamster that I called Bučko because he liked to eat and was big.
He lived a little over 2 years, got sick and died.
I get very attached to animals and love them very quickly, so it took me a little longer to get another one, and I had to because I missed my bucko too much.
I decided to buy a guinea pig, I named him Toby.
He was too cute for me, he grew very big, he loved to bathe and especially eat a lot of salad and carrots.
After almost 3 years, some kind of lump appeared under his stomach and I took him to the vet.
He said it was probably a tumor and after the imaging it was confirmed.
They operated on him and after that he lived a little more than 2 months and unfortunately died. I was devastated.
I decided that I will no longer buy animals that I get so attached to so quickly and that cannot live long, so I bought a cat.
The cat is from a litter where the mother is a British cat and the father is an ordinary domestic cat.
I called him Loky because from the first day he started doing damage around the house, and the first was that he jumped and tore the curtain, and then urinated on the child's school bag.
And I've been with him for the 3 years I've had him now, because today was his birthday.
And the worst and most stressful situation for me was when he got sick from a disease that even the vets didn't know what was wrong with him.
One day I went to comb him and I had a bag full of his hair in my hand, it fell out in piles.
He couldn't eat or drink.
I immediately took him to the vet, who examined him, took pictures, took his blood and did a cat AIDS test, but everything was ok, all the findings.
They sent me to a larger veterinary clinic in another city, where they performed an ultrasound and an examination with a tube.
Also nothing.
He was exhausted. They gave him some kind of injections and they told me to take it home and give it to him twice a day, and every other day to come to give him an infusion, and they also left a brownie in his leg so that I could give him an infusion.
I cried watching him for those 5 days because he couldn't do anything, neither walk nor eat nor drink.
I pushed a syringe with liquid into his mouth and also gave him liquid food, which he barely swallowed because his mouth was also full of sores.
After 5 days, he got up and went to relieve himself and started eating.
I was overjoyed, it was indescribable, as was the rest of my family.
They never found out what was wrong with him, only one vet said that maybe he had heatstroke and that he was lucky to have survived, because I wrapped him with wet and cold towels and that suited him.
I hope it will never happen again.
I am glad to share it with you dear friends.