Bo came to us on a Sunday morning,
in early October, 2006.
It was Zeke who alerted us that something was in our front yard.
He whined and paced from the living room to our bedroom.
And then he pawed at me while I was pretending to sleep.
I finally got up, still half asleep, and followed Zeke.
He sniffed the front door and wagged his tail.
|Brutus and Bo.|
I stepped out onto the front porch.
Sitting at the bottom of the steps, was a tiny, tiny kitten!
Just at the age to be weaned.
He was so little, when he came of age to be neutered
we had to wait because he didn't weigh enough yet!
A little "Garfield" cat he was.
I scooped him up and fell in love...
And he became my "Maverick".
Bo became my cat.
You know how every animal has a *person*?
I became Bo's person.
He followed me everywhere.
He would lay in the bathroom while I showered.
Be at my feet, in the kitchen, while I cooked.
Curl up in my lap while I read.
Learned to ride on my shoulder.
Slept on my pillow each night.
He had the tiniest of meows.
The following summer, Brutus was born in our cellar.
When he was old enough, he came to live in the house.
And that was the beginning
of the friendship between Bo and Brutus.
But they couldn't be more different.
Brutus is our *Fat Boy*!
All fluff and feet the size of half-dollars.
Brave, with a love of being outside.
Bo never grew much.
He has always been a little guy.
His feet the size of dimes!
He was incredibly shy.
He would hide when visitors came to call.
In fact, my parents have never seen Bo!
And venturing outside?
A window with a view to
watch the birds was just fine in Bo's world.
Over the past few years, as Chronic Illness invaded my life,
Bo became even more attached to me.
Some weeks find me in bed more than not.
And Bo would be right there with me.
He would only leave my little nest of
blankets and pillows to do cat stuff.
We humans are so vocal about our bodies.
We talk about our aches and pains.
We let others around us know how we are feeling physically.
But not felines.
Cats are very secretive about their own pain.
They hide it.
Things became amiss with Bo about 10 days ago.
Simple blood-work ruled out basic illness and disease.
While waiting for the more advanced blood-work
to come back, Bo became very, very ill.
|Taking a nap while lying on my pillow.|
My last 10 days have been consumed with only him.
Enticing him to eat and drink, as he rapidly lost weight.
Keeping him warm.
Letting him know just how much J and I love him.
I think of all the times he comforted me,
while he was so gravely ill himself....
The blood-work confirmed that Bo was not going to get better.
So yesterday I gave him a final act of Love I could give.
Making the decision to let him go.
We are blessed.
Our veterinarian (large and small animals),
whom we have used for years, is only a couple of miles from us.
And so she came to our home, knowing my situation.
I cuddled Bo while he lay across my chest,
with his head on my shoulder and his paws holding onto me.
He was wrapped in his favorite blanket.
While Bo was slipping away, I glanced at our vet.
Her eyes were red, with tears spilling down her cheeks.
She whispered to him what a loved little guy he was.
And then he was gone.
I am so grateful that he is no longer suffering.
But my lap and my heart sure feel empty.
Last night, J buried Bo next to Maverick.
My pillow was lonely last night at bedtime.
I missed hearing Bo purr as he dozed off.
But when I awoke at 3 a.m., Mickey was sleeping in Bo's spot.
And that gave me such comfort.
I miss Bo with all my heart.
Thank you for reading about my little love...