I fear this will seem sappy. I’m sorry, it is what it is. You see, our house is suffering a bit of a loss, today. Ray, one of our family cats, is gone. In a lot of ways, he was a member of the family. In retrospect, I am forced to admit that he was closer to us and more dear to us than we knew, or perhaps, were willing to admit.
Ray was always the one to be the most openly affectionate, to everyone, most especially to Donna. Ray was always the one to be acting most kitten like, even as compared to other cats half his age. He had a particular affection for blanket mice, and for laying at odd positions on pillows and open windows. If one wanted to smile, all they’d need to do is find Ray. Usually, you’d find him snoozing on his favorite pillow… on his back. Once in a while, you’d find him watching TV. [1]
When we adopted him some years back, we had no idea how well he would weave himself into our family’s life. And what did we know? Donna and I have always been dog people. And perhaps that’s what endeared him so to us; We called him our “Puppy Cat”… he would follow Donna around the house, everywhere… and would invariably end up on the foot of our bed each night.
About a month ago, Ray developed what turned out to be cancer on both one eye, and a kidney. We were unaware of the kidney, and we spent a good month trying to diagnose the eye problems as a separate issue. When the diagnosis came back as cancer, about a week ago, well, you can imagine the reaction. By that time, there wasn’t much to be done but go home with him, and wait for a while, and make him as comfortable as possible, which, trust me, is among the hardest, and most heartbreaking things I’ve ever had to do, in a life full of hard things.
But he’s gone now, and no longer hurting. That’s OK, we’re hurting for him. It’s covered.
Ray, you’ll be missed, little man. We can only hope we added as much to your life, as you added to ours.
