So Long My Dear Boys

Comet in his kittenhood, way way back, when I lived in Corvallis

Comet with Miss Daisy, whom he adored

Comet and Miss D

Old and frail, taken a few months ago

 I loved my old man cats, Soloman and Comet, so much.   Maybe I loved them too much, enough to be blind to their old age suffering.  I put off helping them out of this world too long.

Both died yesterday.

I took them over to Heartland, finally doing my final duty for them, with tears.

Both, feeble and skrawny, had become my shadows, following me around, wanting constantly to be near me and sometimes in my arms.   They both were born wild and remained wildish their adult lives, particularly Soloman.  I cleaned their faces twice a day, watched my feet carefully because they wound around my legs when I tried to walk anywhere in the house.

Comet moved here with me, almost 16 years ago.   He was the last cat still living, until yesterday, who came with me from Corvallis.   Not a long move by any means, 12 miles or so.

Comet of Heatherdale, I called him.   He came from Heatherdale Trailer park in Albany.  The place was over run in cats.  I tried to get them all fixed multiple times.  My back was failing then, when I met Comet.  My mother was dying.   I took over a dozen kittens from one carport alone.  Comet was one of them.   He had a half length crooked tail, from inbreeding going on there.   

I found the rest of them homes, over months but Comet got ringworm, my back was failing, I lived in crappy little shack back then.  In the end, I had to have back surgery, but in the months preceeding surgery, could barely walk or function.  It was a very very difficult time in my life. 

Comet never got a home and moved here with me finally as an adult.  That move was 16 years ago.  Comet was about 19 when he died yesterday.   He'd gone downhill the last year and I never thought he would be alive through the summer.  He had, over a year or two, lost most of his body weight.  He had a wound in the top of his head, looked like from a claw, that would heal, then break open again.  Then same thing on one side of his cheek.  

He'd howl and howl mournfully wanting chicken, then in the end, eat only a tiny bit of what I cooked up.   He insisted on sleeping atop me, even as I turned in the night, for my heat, and somehow would manage the balance act.  

Comet was not a nice boy most of his adult life.  He was a bully to other cats and would attack them when they tried to use the litter box even.  In his last two years, he finally gave up the bully boy life.  Comet had adored Miss Daisy, idolized her in fact.  When she died he mourned for months, maybe even years.  His next best friend was Mooki, who he also competed with, for about everything.  Mooki died not long ago, of chronic IBS, which, either from a fall due to weakness or its deluges on the body some other way, sent him into a fatal seizure.  

I ran out of sub cu fluids to keep Comet going late last week.   

Soloman on the other hand was a good natured boy without a mean bone in his body.   His sister Panda died earlier in the year, worn out from age.   They came from apartments in Lebanon.   I'll never forget the laziness of two men in the apartment, who fed the cats.  I had to walk through their apartment, through a tight space to trap on the deck out back. It was difficult to get through the tight space where two different screens were set up for the two men living there, who were playing video games on both.  They barely noticed I was there and were irritated when I squeezed in front of their screens, when trying to get back and forth to trap. 

The young woman living there told me she was pregnant, by the younger of the two men.  He proudly announced to me how many offspring he'd spawned, all by different women.  I said matter of factly "and yet you sit here like lazy bums playing video games and she's the only one in this household who works".  It was disgusting.  He spawned kids and didn't support any of them in any way.  Someone besides the cats needed neutered, that was for sure.  The men were so lazy they would not help carry the traps out to my car either.   

I did not return four of  the cats, including Soloman and his sister.  One of the four died suddenly of a saddle clot and the other went to a stable to live with another young adult kitty.  Panda and Soloman remained here.

This was not long after I had moved to Albany.   Soloman remained wild most of his life here.  Six months ago, he decided it'd be ok if I petted him then he couldn't get enough and began following me around like a shadow.  His sister died, becoming feeble and falling from the cat runs, then finally stopped eating.  I had thought he'd go first, as he had also become feeble physically.   I had to shave him in his last years, to keep him from matting.   

His last few days he'd become miserable it was easy to see.

I took both my beloved old man cats to Heartland late yesterday afternoon and said goodbye.  They were euthanized.

Soli in his prime.

Soloman never met a cat he didn't like.  Here, he is with Oci, who died quite some time ago.

My kind hearted sweetie Soloman.  He looked nothing like this in the end.  Almost no hair, skin and bones, but the beautiful soul shone through.

The world is a messy place, a beautiful blood thirsty jungle--full of chaotic joyous life and terrible struggles and suffering.  My beautiful old boys, how I loved them, how we'll miss them here and struggle for a time to adjust to their absence.  But we will adjust.  Life is short, just a breath really in this vastness.   Love and friendship are beautiful.