C and A are adopters of the old and frail cats and dogs in their midst. Sadly, their “old man” cat has run out of lives and will be crossing the rainbow bridge this afternoon. He was brought to C’s hospital 15 months ago because his elderly owners could no longer keep him, and C took him home rather than see him lose his twilight years. Deaf, nearly blind, but still sweet and loving, he found a place between the very shy Josephine (Joey) and the very alpha female Tippy (aka LaLoo). It is a sad situation, but one C and A knew they would be facing sooner rather than later. Poor Bob-cat started having seizures on Monday and is no longer eating or drinking, so it’s time. But it is still sad all the same.
I look at my own adopted fluffbuckets, sitting patiently out on the deck this morning awaiting their expect food rations, and my heart seizes thinking of anything happening to the three of them. Not today, I hope. Today they were too busy eating as if they had not just had their prior meal 12 hours before. Today they are looking haughty and spoiled and willfully ignoring us as they groomed and peered out at the destruction that is the yard. Today they will disappear during the ruckus of clearing out the concrete yet reappear in the garage when the guys sit down for lunch, begging for treats and scraps and some sort of attention. They have charmed our concrete workers as well with their big and fluffy selves.
It’s a sad day in our family neighborhood, with the Bob-cat leaving us. As I told C, though, he enjoyed the extra time she and A gave him, chasing about with the other cats and then the dogs. His life was extended and enhanced because they adopted him.
But we will miss him still. Rest in peace, Bob-cat. You have earned it.