This morning I got a call from Laura that I didn’t want to receive. She had taken our old cat, Shadow, to our vet. We had feared the worst, and those fears were confirmed by the vet’s prognosis – complete kidney failure. The only humane thing to do was to put him to sleep.
Shadow was about fifteen years old. He was named because he blended into the shadows and we often stepped on him accidentally. Shadow was born in our house, so we have had him for all of his life.
Shadow’s mother, the late Bandit, was unfortunately also his half-sister. This bit of in-breeding resulted in a lovelable, but somewhat challenged cat. He was afraid to cross thresholds, especially if there was a carpet or door mat across it. He tended to be clumsy at times. However, he was one of the few cats that I’ve encountered that would fetch, bringing us his toys so that we would pull them or throw them for him.
Especially later, Shadow insisted on sitting in our laps. I searched through my Flickr photos, and every image I found was of him sitting in Laura’s lap.
As much as he liked sitting on our laps, he also enjoyed independence. He insisted on spending nights outside, and spent his last night the same way.
Shadow will be missed.
This is the third feline obituary I’ve had to write this year. We lost Winnie and Rascal last winter, and Shadow. None of these passings was really a surprise, as these were all old cats with health problems, but they still hit us hard. Our sole remaining cat is Misty, Rascal’s sister. I’m sure an adopted kitten will be in the not-too-distant future, but we need a little time for mourning.