It’s an old story: Man meets cat. Man loves cat. Man loses cat.
Sounds silly in the writing, I know. But I’ve never before lost someone or something so close to my heart (surprising, at age 52), and the hole this wonderful animal left behind seems no closer to being filled than it did the day I said goodbye to him.
I met Baxter when he was less than a week old - he was rescued from a trash can and being cared for at our vet’s office. One look at him and I knew he was the cat for me. We were in the middle of building my new office above the garage, and the thought of having a cat to share the space while I was working was irresistible. For the next two months, I made weekly visits to the vet’s office to play with Baxter. Then in mid-June he was at last ready to come home with us.
The next two months were hilarious - having a kitten in the house was so much fun. Baxter loved being in my office (my old office in the house). He would spend hours sleeping on my desk and climb up on my shoulders while I was on conference calls. I didn’t realize it at the time, but we were bonding at a deep level. I found myself hurrying home from meetings to see what he was up to. To see his face running toward me when I opened the door was priceless.
Then Cee Cee and I noticed he was getting lethargic. This scared us because we had lost a cat previously to FIP - a 100% fatal pulmonary disease. His symptoms looked the same. We watched him for a couple of weeks, and when he didn’t get better we took him to the vet - and sure enough, he had it too. Since the disease is relatively rare, our vet suggested that our other cat KC might be a carrier of the FIP virus - and tests later confirmed this.
Baxter lived only another two weeks - he died six months to the day after he was born. And I do not exaggerate when I say that the act of bringing him to the vet and witnessing his passing was among the hardest things I have ever done. Now, over two months later, the hole which opened up in my life that day is still there. I have moved in to my new office, and it is a wonderful place. But I keep wanting Baxter to be here with me. Because KC carries this disease we can’t get another cat to replace Baxter - which makes his absence even larger. And, of course, KC at age 14 has no interest in a new career as an office cat.
What does all this mean? I don’t know. I’ve heard people for years mourning their various losses, saying that after awhile it becomes a little easier, day by day. This hasn’t happened yet for me. Maybe I just haven’t had my share of grieving and loss until now, and it feels alien and unjust to me. I find myself sitting at my desk talking to Baxter, telling him that he did not deserve his fate. I mentally shake my fist in the face of God and curse His unfairness to this innocent creature - as if I didn’t know that life is full of things that are unfair and senseless. Even though there was no way we could have known about KC’s condition, part of me feels responsible for his death. The crazy things you think about when you’re sad.
So Baxter Boy, this one’s for you. Hopefully your picture will live forever in cyberspace, as you will live forever in my heart. Goodbye, my friend. You were truly one of a kind.
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Hey Emile, it’s Frank, your ex-across the street neighbor.
I don’t remember if I ever told you, but in a previous life I lived on a horse ranch and taught Western Trail Riding. I was a city boy trying to live the country life. The horses became enormous pets and I came to be very fond of them. Well the first winter came and I learned the “economics” of owning horses. There were two who were quite old and weren’t really earning their keep. So it was time to sell them. I learned that horses like that were going to be bought for dog food. At that time I didn’t have a “daytime” job so I was there when the horse trader came by. He tried to lead the horses onto his trailer, and they wouldn’t go with him since he was a stranger. “Why don’t you try?” he said to me. Well of course they followed me right on, they were pretty good albeit very old. Well I felt like Judas, and cried for three days. After that I had to “harden” myself. I never looked at them the same way. Well that’s a lie. There was Thunder, he was “my” horse. I always rode him. He came to trust me as much as a horse can. If he had a bug in his ear while I was riding him I would say “I’ve got it!” to him and he wouldn’t toss his head around to get rid of it but would hold his head still and I would reach forward and take card of the bug.
Hi Emile
We’ve never met … but we have three important things in common.
1 - A wonderful friend in Connie Mcleod. She sent me the link to your blog.
2 - I’m the current executive producer at WBRZ.
3 - I just lost my own cat … Jezebel.
She was with me for almost 19 years and died last week. Old age is what took her from me. Her kidneys finally failed. I held her in my arms as she died. I can’t even begin to describe how much that hurt.
She would be waiting for me at the front door every night when I came home from work. Now I feel empty inside when I come home and she’s not there. I try to take comfort in telling myself she lived a long life … full of love and happiness. That much is true … but it does nothing to easy my own pain.
If there’s a kitty heaven … let’s hope Baxter and Jezebel find each other and become great friends.
I can’t wait to hear how you and Chester are doing? I know that he will love his new “forever home” and being the office cat will be a real special treat for him. My hope is that you and he will have a very close, special bond for many, many years to come. Thank you for giving me your book. I am thoroughly enjoying it. Penny wants to read it when I finish it.
I am crying for you, for Baxter, for Jezebel, (we had a Jezebel too that we lost just a few years ago to FIP), and for all the lost furry family we’ve had over the years.
We recently lost another, my baby Rico and I posted it on my site - both him and his brother both. There’s a Rico and Cody memorial page there about them.
Those are our family, our babies. It’s almost harder losing our furry family than people even….(yes, I said almost).
That unconditional love is something that just cannot be compared with anything we can find in humans, not in my mind anyway.
Peace to all.
This touched me in a way that only an animal lover could. I’m sorry for your loss. I have an approx. 8 yr. old cat that “adopted” me about 5 yrs. ago. He was a stray that had obviously had belonged to someone (he had been neutered). Sometimes I feel Pepper loves me more than my husband and children. He brings a tremendous amount of peace to my life after a long day when he jumps up and my lap to say “hello, I’ve missed you.” Good luck with your new “baby”.
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