The world lost one of its brightest souls today. He died peacefully, at home. No cat carrier, no needles. He was sick, and he was frail, and that was the best we could hope for.
Till we meet again, old friend.
It's been 17 years since I first met a tiny white furball, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, hanging on the screen door and yelling his head off.
He slept on my chest that first night, something he never did again. I guess he got his bonding out of the way early.
He hung around for several days before his then family, who lived all of two doors up, finally responded to the signs I'd put up all over the street.
They'd adopted him from a shelter and knew NOTHING about cats. They thought kittens didn't even need food and had only been giving him milk. No wonder he ran away!
I tried to give them some pointers, bought them some kitten food and whatnot, shaking my head all the while and thinking these people should not have a cat!
He ran away several more times. I'd let him stay the night and take him back the next day.
They last time I took him back he held on so tight that when I got home I discovered he'd shredded my shirt without my even realizing it.
At that point I decided the next time he came back I was keeping him. I'd give them back whatever they'd spent to adopt him...whatever they wanted really.
Well, he came back and they never came looking. So that was that.
Just a handful of years later, in 2003, he nearly died on marathon Sunday. Was just laying on the floor, struggling for breath, barely responsive.
He pulled through...with considerable help from the wonderful doctors at Penn Animal Hospital in the Strip...though it took a while. There were weeks when I really thought it was the end. Never did figure out exactly what happened. They thought it might be cardiac, but cats with heart problems have a horrible prognosis, so the next 11 & 1/2 years argue against that.
He was sweet, he was funny, he was gentle. When he was young he talked constantly but he'd quieted down in recent years, saving his voice for when he had orders to give. And he did give orders.
I am very lucky to have had him for so long and so grateful that he picked my door. I will miss him as much as I miss any of the human beings I have loved.
Boo with his "stepmom, the beloved Shadow, still missed after 14 years.
Rest well Boo. You have earned it. And though I believe in very little beyond this world I do dearly hope that there is a Rainbow Bridge, and that someday I will be there and see you and your stepmother, dear little Shadow, again.