Pixel was a young adult who walked up to our house 20 (!) years ago, trading his freedom for a ready food source and home. He didn't get along with the other cats that well, but tolerated us, mostly living in isolation in the garage and "cat proofed" back yard where they are free to roam, safe from cars and predators. Mostly he was just "there", we saw him daily at mealtime, but he spent most of his time on his own. A few years back during one of his regular checkups at the vet, he was down a pound, so they did some bloodwork - kidney issues and high blood pressure, meaning pills and occasionally we'd give him sub-cutaneous fluid, which would make him even less available to us as he would hide from that sort of attention.
One of our summer trips to the Midwest, we took him with us on the plane rather than leave his pills and special care to the cat sitter, and boy, did he bloom! Without the other cats around, he would follow us from room to room, and was more of a trip hazard than anything else. If we were watching TV, he was beside us on the couch. Until I learned the techniques of "defensive sleeping", with my arms in front of my face, he would sleep 3" in front of me, reaching out with his paw to touch my face every 30 seconds. In other words, he was transformed into the most affectionate cat ever! In Illinois he wasn't allowed outside, but the "new" Pixel was content to hang out with us and gaze upon the lush green of our yard through the safety of our windows, as shown at right.
We had high hopes for his return to Tucson, but alas, with the other cats, we again rarely saw him as he moved back out to the garage. But he didn't forget about us, occasionally sleeping with us again, and in recent years would bless us with his presence again in the living room, letting the newer cats know he was in charge. But in recent months, his appetite slowed, became pickier, was harder to sneak him his pills in the soft treats we used. The weight loss continued till he was a mere shadow of his former athletic self. We brought him in a couple weeks ago and the vet put him on IV fluids for 6 days, his appetite rebounding a little. But at home he refused even the Fancy Feast, surviving on a jar of baby food turkey per day with his meds crushed and hidden within. You could see it was time for that final trip to the vet, and blood tests confirmed the backslide. It was so hard when in a time of clarity he made eye contact with me as if to ask - "we going home soon?" I had no answer for him - not this time...
Hootie appeared a few years after Pixel. Hootie, actually a perversion of Houdini, seemed to be able to come and go over my "cat-proof" fence at will, and generally wake us early in the mornings in our kitchen eating the dry cat food uninvited. I surprised him one morning by closing his escape route, catching this wildcat in midair in my arms wrapped in a towel to bring him to the vet for the required checkup before exposing him to the rest of our group. Once he discovered the canned food and sheltered way of living, he was done with the street, and showed his gratitude to us every day of his life. I swear he thought he was a dog - he was on you as soon as you sat on the couch convinced your lap was his personal space and by the way, you need to pet me now! Off your lap he was an "invisible" cat - almost never saw him eat or drink, but his muscular build kept me from worrying about him. He seemed to nearly live in the litter boxes, though, seemingly a dozen or more times a day, and occasionally had poops that were so stinky they would rouse you out of a sound sleep! Many a time I'd need to get up at 3am to do litter box chores thanks to Hootie...
This went on for a decade and a half without change and suddenly a few weeks ago he didn't bug you for attention, was content to sleep alone, a big change in his behavior. We immediately made a vet appointment - this last month with me fresh out of the hospital. It was when I was tying my shoes that (I now know that) I re-broke 2 ribs and was in agony, we took him to the vet with niece Kathy assisting. A delay at the vet's and it was decided Melinda would pick me up and take me to the ER, while Kathy stayed with Hootie. Little did we know that the vet would declare him deathly ill and we decided to have him put to sleep too. I'm sorry I missed it and also that we had to press Kathy into service to being with him at the end...
Both of our buddies had good long lives, but you always hope they will be with you forever. They are family to us, sharing our homes, our hearts, wanting little, giving so much. Even with our eight cats remaining, we've got holes in our hearts that will take time to refill. Meanwhile there is a shy Persian/tabby mix out front that looks like it needs a friend. There always seems a constant supply of hole-fillers showing up out front...
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