Yesterday stands out as one of the worst days in my life. My wife and I thought that we were finally going to get answers as to why my cat, Baloo, wasn’t doing well. We did… and the results were heartbreaking. I can hardly believe that he was as active and affectionate as he was, with three deadly conditions afflicting him (advanced pancreatic cancer, a collapsed lung lobe, and going into kidney failure). Worse, each time we heard from the veterinarian, the news was worse than the last. Oh, I wish that we’d been able to save him, but with him in that state, there was no choice.
Baloo was my constant, adoring companion for four years. He was there when I wrote my first full book. He was gentle, didn’t knock things over, and the only thing he clawed was his scratching post (which we replaced three times in four years). He loved to sit in my lap and purr… or my wife’s lap, anyway. My chair put my legs at an angle he didn’t like, to my regret. He’d climb under the covers of the bed to curl up next to me and just be companionable.
My wife and I are fortunate that the vet allowed us in to say goodbye to Baloo. Most veterinary clinics in the region aren’t allowing people in at all. He was in good spirits, looking around curiously, and with a silly shaving job on his front legs where he’d refused to cooperate with the vet. The least I could do was pet him and hold his paw as he stretched his claws and settled down for his last nap.
I’m including a picture of him just six inches behind where I work, from about 2 weeks ago. I’m going to miss him so very much. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to write in the near future. Also, I’m keeping comments closed on this post just because… I don’t know if I can deal with any comments.
I miss you, Baloo.