Goodbye to an old friend
Apr. 24th, 2010 12:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pjthompsonI wasn't sure I was going to talk about this here, but it felt like I was giving Blue short shrift by not talking about him. He was a sweet, loving old cat, everybody's friend, and we're going to miss him.
I didn't talk about Blue here much because he was already living with the roommate when I moved in back in '05 and he was kind of her cat. But Blue wasn't exclusive in his affection. If he had a shot at a lap, he took it. He was always in the yard as the official greeter whenever anyone came to visit, and he loved looking in on the neighbors. In fact, he had several of them conned into believing he was homeless, caging meals from many households. One lady was so worried about him she put out flyers asking if anyone was missing a cat. Someone finally recognized him and told her where he lived.
Blue gave a lot of comic relief like that. Everybody had a favorite Blue story, and loved to share a laugh over his latest escapade. He also would politely knock on the iron door when he wanted to be fed—sometimes as often as six times a day—or otherwise wanted attention. If hitting the door with his paw didn't make sufficient noise to rouse us, he'd put his shoulder into it, giving it a good body slam. That usually got us moving. Then he'd look up at you with that "What took you so long?" expression.
He didn't like to be confined, didn't like to stay inside much, and would tear his way out if you did try to lock him in. He was a free spirit, so we made him warm places in the garage where he could sleep if he didn't want to come inside, and a cat door in the garage door so he could go in and out. He remained pretty much true to himself until the last week, then took a sudden bad turn. We took him to the vet, but the x-rays were very, very clear: he was full of cancer. It was still very, very hard to make the decision, and I still feel guilty, but the vet said even with extreme measures, chemo treatments, et al., the prognosis was very bleak. He was nearly fifteen. It would have been very, very hard. We couldn't see putting him through that. In the last days before we took him to the vet, he'd already started to lose some of his dignity. And Blue was a very dignified gentleman. He would have had to have been confined, which he would have hated. So. The vet gave us a room and we spent a lot of time with him, giving him love and scritches. He purred for us right up until the end.
The whole neighborhood is sad. That's a pretty good legacy for an old guy to leave.
I didn't talk about Blue here much because he was already living with the roommate when I moved in back in '05 and he was kind of her cat. But Blue wasn't exclusive in his affection. If he had a shot at a lap, he took it. He was always in the yard as the official greeter whenever anyone came to visit, and he loved looking in on the neighbors. In fact, he had several of them conned into believing he was homeless, caging meals from many households. One lady was so worried about him she put out flyers asking if anyone was missing a cat. Someone finally recognized him and told her where he lived.
Blue gave a lot of comic relief like that. Everybody had a favorite Blue story, and loved to share a laugh over his latest escapade. He also would politely knock on the iron door when he wanted to be fed—sometimes as often as six times a day—or otherwise wanted attention. If hitting the door with his paw didn't make sufficient noise to rouse us, he'd put his shoulder into it, giving it a good body slam. That usually got us moving. Then he'd look up at you with that "What took you so long?" expression.
He didn't like to be confined, didn't like to stay inside much, and would tear his way out if you did try to lock him in. He was a free spirit, so we made him warm places in the garage where he could sleep if he didn't want to come inside, and a cat door in the garage door so he could go in and out. He remained pretty much true to himself until the last week, then took a sudden bad turn. We took him to the vet, but the x-rays were very, very clear: he was full of cancer. It was still very, very hard to make the decision, and I still feel guilty, but the vet said even with extreme measures, chemo treatments, et al., the prognosis was very bleak. He was nearly fifteen. It would have been very, very hard. We couldn't see putting him through that. In the last days before we took him to the vet, he'd already started to lose some of his dignity. And Blue was a very dignified gentleman. He would have had to have been confined, which he would have hated. So. The vet gave us a room and we spent a lot of time with him, giving him love and scritches. He purred for us right up until the end.
The whole neighborhood is sad. That's a pretty good legacy for an old guy to leave.
