Before we continue with the balloon juice let me talk about some real life. My best boy is going down and I hate to have to watch it all happen. He hasn't been in pain but for the past two days he hasn't eaten and is not keeping his usual routine. He is not in the bathroom having a discussion with anyone who is using the room. He is not waiting for me to settle in bed before joining me for his nightly rubdown. He is not coming to me to tell me it's time I got off my ass and let him outside. If he goes for the back door he just wants to go out. If he goes for the front door it means he wants a brushing first. That also comes with more conversation.
This morning I had to go look for him. He was downstairs behind the couch. He wouldn't come out when called so I picked him up so he could try some food. He has one swipe at it then I took him to his water and he drank a lot. He is now sleeping behind me. He has no visible pain because he doesn't flinch or cry out when I touch him but he is tired. After twenty years of being the Admiral he just got tired. And now I have to make a selfish decision. Selfish because I want every second I can have with him.
Twenty years ago I was teaching in a rural school and one day a kid came in saying that if she couldn't get rid of two kittens that he dad was going to drown them. What a hustle and I fell for it and took those two kitten home. But not before telling her to bring them in the morning so that I could have them in the classroom all day. It was a trip and everyone had to come visit them and watch their shenanigans. Ten years later the first cat, Stretchie passed away but his brother Fluffy became the Admiral Fluffy Von Scoochie-Baloo (of the Manhattan Schoochie-Balloos) and embarked on his next life and the king of the castle. He loved to go outside but never strayed far from the yard. He was content with his life and was a great companion.
If you have been following this blog for awhile you know that a few years ago I lost him for 22 days. He just never came home one night. I thought he was dead by some wild animal or a vehicle because his sight was not what it used to be. Then one morning I heard him crying outside my window. He was okay is all ways. Someone must have taken him in but he still found his way home to me. I got years more to spend with him than I ever thought I would. Ever second of that was a gift. It's so hard to realize that I only have a few precious days left with my boy. He was always a great cat. So chill but with personality and class. I will miss him always when he is gone.