Goodbye Kitty

There has been yet another sad day at Arnold Acres, even in the midst of the brighter ones I have discussed. My sweet little Bo had to be put to sleep on March 17, exactly three months ago today. He was only 6 years old, about the equivalency of a 40 year old man.

I had noticed over the past three weeks that Little Bo wasn't acting right. He didn't want to play and hunt outside as usual, and his appetite was decreasing. Bo Bo was always one to suffer from hairballs, and I recalled returning from Georgia on February 24 and cleaning one up. That was the last hairball I remembered, so I was thinking Bo had one he could not cough up. Two weeks later, he never wanted to get out of his chair, was barely eating, and cried immensely when I picked him up. I fed him canned food and tuna, rare favorites of the kitty, and he eventually stopped eating that. Danny and I decided I should take him to the vet to determine what was causing him the pain and loss of appetite. Additionally, my 15-lb kitty felt as if he'd lost five pounds. On Sunday, the day before his scheduled appointment, he began hiding in Danny's closet. I told Danny I had a very ominous feeling about the situation.

The Monday morning of his appointment, I fed him his favorite treats, the only thing he would eat. I picked him up and put him on the dresser he loved to lay on and watch birds at the bird feeder. This particular morning there was a goose below the feeder and boy did Bo's eyes widen at the size of this bird! He made little meow noises and watched intently. I helped him down and took him to the bed, where his brother and lifelong companion was lying. I sat him by Luke and made them say goodbye. This trip would be the first time the boys were ever separated. Luke watched as I put Bo in the carrier and took him to the truck. It was the last time he got to see his best friend.

Dr. Sluss, our usual doctor, was unavailable. We had to see the Nazi vet we'd seen once before, the one that chastised me for having fat cats, letting dogs ride in the back of the truck, etc.
I described his demise to the vet and asked for an xray to determine if a lodged hairball was the culprit. Dr. Sluss is the one who does xrays so Dr. Lane transferred the case to her. Dr. Sluss noticed his wheezy breathing right away and ordered a full body scan. Bo had suffered from feline asthma since I had him, so I thought the wheeze was no big deal. Guess that's why I'm not a vet. My hairball theory was proven wrong as well.

So it was that Little Bo had a huge tumor, "lymphosarcoma", about the size of the palm of my hand, that had grown inward and pushed all of his organs up. Both lungs were filled with fluid- the right one completely, and all but 1/3 of his left. His diagnosis was poor, only a few days left at most. The kindest thing I could do for my little buddy was to put him out of his misery, which I opted to do just an hour after bringing him in to fix his hairball.

I called Danny to tell him about my decision. Dr. Sluss allowed me some time with Little Bo before I gave the okay to end his life. I spent ten PRECIOUS minutes with my sweet friend, hugging and kissing him and stroking his silky fur. I requested Dr. Sluss to come in after ten minutes, because if I waited any longer, I would have probably sat in that chair with him for the three to four days left of his life. I took a picture of Bo Bo with my phone prior to the killer shot and kissed him one more time, right below the ear in his fuzzy little spot I'd kissed for over 6 years. I just kept petting him like nothing was wrong. Dr. Sluss gave him the shot and it took his life so fast that he didn't even have time to close his eyes. As many times as my heart has been broken in the past couple years, the tears flowed so freely...as if I hadn't cried in years. Dr. Sluss was so kind and compassionate, a friend in my time of need...offering the hug I so needed. She took him out the exam room and minutes later brought him back in his little coffin. She helped me out to the truck and hugged me one more time as I left on my journey home with my dead kitty.

I cried the whole way of the 40-minute trip, and pretty much the rest of the day. After work, Danny helped me bury him in the pasture, in a special spot that I could see from the bedroom window. Jamie happened to come by during the burial and we all cried over the loss of this fun kitty. Little Bo was always the sociable one, out hunting in the yard or the barn, or begging guests to play with him with his favorite toy. He was the one that woke me up every morning, biting me on my nose or chin until I gave in to feeding him. Life would be so different now.
Luke took the loss pretty hard. He continually looked for Bo Bo all day and night and the next day. He went to all of Bo's favorite spots to no avail. He couldn't understand where Bo was. Danny decided with the way Luke was acting the best thing to do was to get him another companion. So I went to the humane society the next day to see the available kittens.

I used much discretion in choosing a companion. I watched the cats for two hours and decided to think about it over night, having narrowed my selection down to two. I described them to Danny and showed him pictures on the humane society website. The next day, I returned to the pound and pulled out my two selections, a boy and a girl, to observe one more time. The boy cat was very timid and not very playful that morning, so I decided Scout and I needed some more girls around and got Luke a little girl cat for his companion.

She is a 2-yr old brown tabby and was the fattest one in the pound! She, a stray from Elk Park, had been there since November 3, the longest of any of the cats available for adoption. She was good with dogs and loved to play with the other cats. I thought she would be the perfect match. I changed her name from Cora to Peanut and took her to her new home in Hicks Hollow.

Luke hated Peanut for the first three days. He hissed at her and ignored her; I'd never seen Luke be so hateful. His curiosity in her made him come around; she was always trying to get him to play and get into mischief. Since I've waited so long to blog about my Wittle Bo, Luke and Peanut have become good friends and wrestlers. I felt like I was betraying Bo when I brought her home, just less than two days after he passed. But Little Bo was so sweet and loving I think he would've been happy that I got his brother another buddy. He would've loved to play with this girl kitty! She's got a lot of quirks similar to Bo...she's quite sociable and loves to hunt and play. Little Bo's death may have spared her from a similar one, since she had been overlooked for four months at the pound.

While she has added much joy to our lives, I still miss my boy and get angry that he died so young. He broke our contract of staying with me until I am 40, but I am thankful for the six years of companionship he provided me. I have many fond and funny memories about things Bo Bo did and the idiosyncrasies of his personality.

So we've suffered another loss here at Arnold Acres. But with each loss, we seem to gain something...whether it be another animal, or just the understanding that life is fragile and never to be taken for granted.