Posted on 10/29/2008 3:18:07 PM PDT by franksolich
I really do not like writing obituaries for cats or any other pets, but upon the demise of one, it is necessary to pause and remember; to contemplate upon God and those things God gives us, even if only for a short while.
It was over in two minutes, and some hours later I buried him under the same walnut tree as where the cat Floyd lies.
It was only several days ago--not even a week--that I first noticed something peculiar about Leo; always a social, outgoing cat romping here and there and all over the place, he was suddenly simply perched in the corner of a bedroom.
I moved him around various times, but he always returned to that corner. Upon closer examination of the little cat, my worst fears of eight weeks ago, involving the cat Floyd, came to the surface. It was the same sort of thing, this withering away.
Leo first came here in January 2005, another tiny feral kitten appearing out of nowhere in the Sandhills of Nebraska. At first, he was hesitant about coming inside the door, but one night when it was -20 F, and a strong wind was blowing, I got no more argument from him. He came inside, and thereafter made himself comfortable.
Leo proved himself a warm, affectionate, social, "people" sort of kitten and cat, and of course I had him neutralized and shot, to keep him from reproducing and to shield him from disease.
Leo was eminently comfortable being held laying on his back as one gently tickled or rubbed his stomach.
Leo never did grow large, but he waxed fat and prosperous, a fluffy orange butterball.
It was only some days ago that I noticed it appeared all was not well, which proved to be the case.
Remembering the ordeal of keeping Floyd alive for 23 days--23 days during which I did little or nothing else--and still speculating it might be a temporary aberration, I decided to let nature take its course. If Leo were ever to show any signs of pain or distress, of course immediately to the veterinary he would go, but I hoped to God that he would go gently and quickly on his own, if that was to be his destiny.
Leo was handled very gently. Two times I tried to force liquids and medicine into him, but both times ended in futility. Recalling the horrors of trying to feed and liquefy Floyd, I decided no; best to leave Leo alone with ample and readily-available supplies of water, milk, Gerber's baby food, chicken broth, tuna, and tuna-water within inches of him, changing them every six hours to keep it all fresh and one hoped, appetizing.
Just as with Floyd of two months ago, I carried Leo around with me as much as was practical, keeping him glued to another heartbeat and warm body.
And of course I contemplated upon the situation.
I was up against something very ancient, something possibly as old as mankind itself, and something I could change no more than I could stop the tides of the ocean from coming in.
I am not familiar with the history and geography of cats, not being a cat person, but I assume there have been cats around here since the birds first began to sing; decades, generations, centuries, milleniums.
There were probably cats romping and playing alongside the river and in the meadows here when Abraham was in Ur, the Pyramids of Egypt constructed, the birth and crucifixion of Christ, the fall of the Roman Empire, the invasion of England, the Spanish Armada, and 1875, when this part of Nebraska was first settled.
If that isn't right, then such cats surely came with those first settlers.
And even 1875 was a very long time ago, during which time scores of generations of cats lived and died, nearly all of them of feral origin.
Whatever this thing was, that had killed Floyd, and was killing Leo, was probably some ancient genetic tendency to "attract" certain conditions and diseases, as compared with cats who had been domesticated for generations.
I recalled that when I first moved out here, there had been an entirely different set of feral cats hanging around.....cats which inexplicably disappeared over the following months, perhaps catching something and going away to die, unseen. There were lots and lots of those ephermal cats around here.
One can only take them, and hold them as long as possible, gambling that at least one out of six or eight might make it to threescore and ten in cat-years.
And so I held onto Leo as long as I could.
But late Monday afternoon, I decided if it was hopeless by Thursday morning, I would have to have Leo delivered from this time and place. (Of course, if Leo had demonstrated pain or distress before then, then.)
But as already described, Leo exited voluntarily and easily on Tuesday night, for which I thanked God.
As most know from my account of the death of Floyd, I trust God, and that God does not extinguish life that has been created; that life merely goes on to another time and place, an Eternal Life, which is beyond the cerebral capacity of man to understand.
It was later pointed out to me that God has promised Eternal Life to those without Original Sin, which suddenly put a new light on things, as surely pets, being innocent animals, came into being without such an obstacle.
Beautiful tribute, Frank. I’m sending my consolations to you, for what it’s worth.
I’m weeping for you and with you. You you have my prayers.
Thank you. Very beautifully said, very beautiful truth.
Thank you, sir; it flatters me overmuch, but it says a great deal about Leo himself.
It’s wonderful.
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