Sucks man
I lost a kitten three and a bit years ago that I had for three months, Smokey, my first cat. I was never a cat person until I got him.
We've since moved and adopted six other kittens, mostly rescues.
The oldest two are now going on for 3 (Pikachu found with her mother and several other kittens in a mine, Peanut Butter saved from an abusive family), the next oldest is going on for 2 (Morgan, the only that isn't a rescue cat), Tigger and Sylvester (both just over a year) and Mickey (hand reared by me from we believe the day he was born as the umbilical cord fell off on day 5, found in the back of a delivery truck).
Anyway, Smokey was my parrot. He'd climb my clothes to get to my shoulder where he'd sit for a good half hour at a time. He'd wake me by pawing my cheek whenever my wife got up as if to say "Wake up, you'll be late for work" even if she just went to the loo. He'd shower/swim with me. He was extremely playful. I used to throw him across the floor like a bowling ball (back off SPCA, I never hurt him), he'd slide to the other end of the house and come running back for more. Hell, he even played fetch (well, tried to) with a ping pong ball.
My wife called me late one afternoon in a state saying that one of the landlord's pit bulls had broken through the lounge door (leading outside) and gotten hold of Smokey as well as my daughter. This dog had quite a reputation and had bitten several kids in the past.
Anyway, by the time I was home 10 minutes later, my wife had left for hospital with the kids and I walked into a war zone. Lounge, kitchen, passage and our bedroom floor covered in blood, walls splattered with blood, etc.
My wife had put Smokey (torn almost in two) inside a shoe box on his blanket, a sight I'll never forget. Matted, wet looking (but hard) fur stained red, milky eyes staring into nothingness.
It was a kak day.
Daughter needed the wound cleaned (they wouldn't stitch) and has a scar on her backside for life.
