acmespaceship

Ambrus Kerouac. The Belmont Lummox. El Gatito Gigante. Hey Boss, Whatchadoin? Bruiser. My good buddy and kitchen assistant. "I can stick my entire head into that mixing bowl for you, see how helpful I am?"

Gone. On Thursday evening Bruce lay down under his favorite chair, in the place we called his Fortress of Solitude. And he died.

He lost a lot of weight the last two months (a lot of weight, given that he was a 15-pound heater cat). The vet said blood tests were normal, except a high WBC. So he went on antibiotics, which was like pilling an alligator. Over Labor Day weekend his appetite started improving and everything looked fine. Then on Tuesday and Wednesday he was eating less again. Thursday started ok, but by mid afternoon he was clearly uncomfortable and I scheduled a vet appt. for Friday. Shortly after

e_m_b got home from work, he saw that Bruce was unresponsive. I tried to revive him, but he was already gone. EMB raced him to the emergency vet anyway.

Post-mortem showed a huge tumor knotting up his intestines. He was lucky it steamrollered so fast. He was eating Trader Joe's Tuna For Cats on Wednesday night. He used the litter box normally on Thursday morning (I know this because Bruce's normal litter box visit after Tuna For Cats is not something easily ignored if you're in the next room). He stalked a (perhaps imaginary) mouse under the stove around noon. When he gave it up, he was lying stretched on his side, looking as pleased and peaceful as a cat can look. Quick was good for him. Hard for me.

As of Sunday afternoon I've made it all the way to Kubler-Ross Stage 4.5:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining (kinda pointless once the cat is already dead)
4. Depression (reading Gizmodo all night, ok maybe that was denial)
4.5 Playing through the entire ukulele rock-and-roll binder alphabetically from "59th Street Bridge Song" through "Wonderful World (Don't Know About History)" skipping only the Leonard Cohen and sucking it up like a big girl to get through all the Warren Zevon.

You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse. Keep me in your heart for a while.

Can't write a proper obit yet. This was the young, healthy cat. Go figure.

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