Baxter Bertrand Steve McQueen Stangl passed away peacefully at home on August 24, 2010. While his cause of death is unknown, there was speculation a year or so ago that he had a slow-growing stomach cancer. I chose not to get the tests done, as it would not have changed my decision to enjoy every moment I had with him.
Baxter came into my life just over 4 weeks ago. I have long maintained that I was not a cat person, but upon experiencing the joy of the Maine Coon Cat, I was willing to consider the option. A friend's uncle breeds Maine Coons, and knew that upon moving to Michigan to start graduate school, I was looking to bring one into my life. I remember the phone call well. She said he was perfect for me-- sassy, but affectionate, with lots of personality. A couple days after I moved to Michigan, I drove to Ohio to meet my friend and her mom to pick up the cat. I think the first thing I noticed was his little fangs. He had a bit of an overbite, and slightly longer than normal canines. He was thin and needed to be brushed badly. He had been in a house with 26 other cats and hadn't gotten enough attention. They warned me to be careful, as he'd pull the meat out of the other side of your sandwich while you were eating it. A purebred with a champion daddy, he was returned when he was a kitten because he wouldn't come out from under the bed. They found another family to place him with, but he started throwing up. No amount of tests were able to reveal any cause of the excessive vomiting, so he returned to the home of the breeder.
Bax got a vet appointment a couple days later, at which point we discovered that he wasn't an asshole that stole food out of your sandwich, but that his teeth and gums were horridly infected and that eating regular cat food would have been impossible. After an expensive surgery that included cleaning and removal, Bax was ready to start settling in. We had a bond instantly. When I had cramps, he knew to lay across my stomach. When I was sad and lonely, he knew to talk to me in his little Maine Coon voice and assure me that all was going to be okay. I hadn't met anyone in Michigan yet, so for a good 3 weeks, it was just Baxter and I. I contemplated changing his name to Bertrand, but he was so ornery that a name closer to "Bastard" seemed a better choice.
For four years he slept next to me either on the pillow by my head or stretched out, spooning along my body. He greeted me when I came home. He chewed me out when I'd been gone too much. He expressed his displeasure with my schedule by pooping in the bathtub. After he'd had some time to be an only child and recover from being around so many other cats, he seemed lonely, so I sought out a kitten. While Simone was amusing, her ninja-like ways resulted in Baxter getting very stressed and peeing blood. Because Baxter is and always has been #1, Simone went and Baxter stayed. Even though a dog (Hank) was added in the meantime, Bax was immediately happier and healthier. He put on weight. His coat improved. He chirped and cooed more often.
When we moved to the new house, I discovered he had been angrily peeing on a few things here and there. He knew he was pushing his luck, and after a long discussion, the peeing seemed to stop. The new house gave him his own bedroom and window to watch out of that he frequently utilized to call out to passers-by like Rapunzel, begging for rescue. He loved exploring the basement and frequently crawled into bed leaving little dirty foot prints behind. He seemed to enjoy the new place greatly.
About a month ago he started to throw up more. I'd long suspected he binged and purged, and resorted periodically to sitting in his room while he ate, giving him a few pieces of food at a time until he'd consumed a little, and then waiting and doing it again an hour or so later. The only difference it made was smaller piles of puke. I came home from walking the dogs last night and he was laying in the kitchen. He didn't get up when the dogs ran to him, and hissed weakly. I knew what was happening. I'd been expecting it for years. I was always certain he wouldn't live long. He gave me a gift of laying on my lap for a couple of hours, purring and snuggling. He even let the dogs give him kisses. When he was ready, he got up and went to the basement, where he continued to deteriorate. He fought it as long as he could, but went quietly and peacefully.
He was such a good kitty, and got me through some difficult moments in the last 4 years. Quite honestly, I'm not sure how I would have done it without him.
Thank you, Baxter, for coming in to my life exactly when I needed you, and for being exactly what I needed more times than I can count. I am so thankful that we were able to spend the last 4 years together, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. You were the best cat a girl could ask for. You were there when nobody else was, or even when others were and all I really needed was your little furry fanged face. You reminded me to take it easy when life got too busy, plopping yourself on my lap and insisting I sit for awhile. You greeted me with your chirps and coos in the morning and when I came home from class or work. You made sure I knew how much you loved me every night when you made biscuits on my chest and purred so loud my own thoughts faded in to the back ground. I cannot thank you enough. You will forever be in my heart. I love you dearly.
Good bye, sweet Baxter...
Love, Mommy
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment