kingly

I haven't been posting much because the last 2 weeks have been pretty rough. My cat of 15 1/2 years died in my arms. It's hitting me hard 'coz not only was he my constant companion but the fact my sister and I basically raised him. He was attacked and almost killed by a male cat in the house when he was a kitten. I came home from work and found him in a pool of blood and gasping. His eyes weren't even open yet he was that young. Or local vet saved him and it was up to us to tube feed him and even help him go to the bathroom. So we played the roles of "Mommy". I'll be damned if he didn't grow strong. And well, he was the longest we ever had a pet.

I knew he was in failing health when my sister took him to the vets a few months ago and they said his kidneys were failing. Things took a turn for the worse a few weeks ago. I took him to the vet and they kept him a couple of days. They ran other tests and it showed he had cancer as well. Maybe I should've had him put down then, but I wanted to take him home to familiar surroundings. I guess I was being selfish and being in denial, but when I opened that cage and saw him looking up at me and take my finger in his paw, I had too.

He hung tough for those last days. The memory I'll keep is him looking up at me last Sunday after letting out a big stretch. It looked like everything was fine and good. That night he slept on my chest purring. By Tuesday I knew the end was near. Early Wednesday morning at 2:30 AM he died in my arms. I haven't cried that hard in years....

I buried him in the back yard that morning. His coffin was an old bass drum pedal box. I'll never forget my buddy. Goodbye Jimmy.