His health issues - the usual feline kidney issues - had caught up with him, and I had to make the call to our vet a few days ago as his health suddenly started deteriorating quickly. Fortunately our vet does house calls, so I didn't have to subject him to an hour in the car on his last day on this plane of existence. He hated being in a car, although apparently he quietly enjoyed himself on the biggest trip of his life from Nevada to West Virginia, lounging in a hammock and looking out of the window of the car.
My favourite photo of him - it's a few years old and shows him in his full glory. That moving box is over 2' across...
We never figured out how old he was - his previous can opener had passed away, leaving him and another cat to more or less fend for themselves. A neighbor tried to take care of them as best as she could with water and food, but her landlord didn't allow pets so he ended up living outside in the High Desert in NV. Allegedly only for a few months, but as we found out later, most likely for several years. He was in pretty bad shape when we got him and our vet back in NV suggested that he very likely wouldn't have lasted another six months. Given that that was nine-odd years ago, I think he did alright. Our best guess from what we know now is that he was probably around seven years old or even older when we got him, so even with this rough start he made it into the mid- to late teens.
He was a mighty hunter even after losing a lot of his teeth, and I hope that in feline Valhalla, there is plenty of hunting to be had and plenty of trees to climb and roofs to jump onto.
Godspeed my friend.
(And I wish someone would stop chopping onions in my office)
