neadods | 11 Years, 6 Months

Eleven years and six months. That's how long I had DB.

Not bad for a cat on his third owner.

I promised him no more moves, no more new owners, and I kept that promise faithfully. And he returned that faith with incredible devotion - not only did he come to me whenever I started crying, for the first year or so he refused to let M pet him in my sight, presumably for fear that I'd think he was disloyal. If she reached for him, he'd move away... but when I went to sleep, he'd go upstairs and soak up all the love she'd give him. After a while, when he realized that she would literally pet him for hours, he'd sit on the sofa letting her skritch his chin while staring at me with a "THIS is how it's supposed to go, you know" expression.

We noticed the tumor last night (and this in a cat who gets oral medicine twice a day, so it was very fast growing, although it may explain his sharp meows over the last couple of weeks as he got dosed.) It was confirmed as cancer early this afternoon. I was determined not to let his life be a horror to him -- I kept two of my ferrets too long and still feel guilty -- so this afternoon, as he purred in my arms and M stroked him, the vet used the port in his foreleg to let him slip away while I promised no more claw clippings, no more medicine, no more being hissed at by Kaylee or body-blocked by Mulder.

He was still warm behind the ear when I kissed him for the last time. His eyes were half open, and I swear, he looked just like he did when he was half asleep and looking over his little kingdom.

Contemplating an autumn leaf from the porch

Contemplating a very tiny intruder

Ignoring another tiny intruder. It took us a while to notice when Mulder was missing because we'd see DB out of the corner of an eye and assume it was Mulder. And I just had my first flash of Mulder trotting by and thinking it was DB and this was all a bad dream.

Poses like this were why Mother thought he was so dignified. She usually said this on the phone when he was lying on his back, legs everywhere and bare belly open to the breeze, with the ultimate sign of contentment... the last third of his tail looped over to touch itself.

Dignified is not quite the right word for that, really.