Friday, January 8, 2016

Lukie really is dying this time

Lukie, Luke, our 15 year old yellow cat, is probably, really dying. He is skin and when he used to be 20 pounds of cat. We're going to Baltimore next Thursday and we always leave him with lots of food and water when we go away for just a few days. I actually hope he dies before we go because I want to be here when he goes and to be able to bury him in our Pet Cemetery off our back deck.

I'd hate to come back on Saturday and find him dead.

He's been a wonderful pet--so lovely and loving.

We got him when Mimi was graduated from college and living with us. Hold on, he's probably older than 15, given that--16 or 17 maybe--I'm always lost in linear time....

We've had up to 4 cats at a time. Lukie is part of the four of Millie, Catherine (Millie's mother) and Big Fatty, whose real name I've forgotten, since we called him 'big Fatty' for so long and after that, when he became even more disgusting, "Big Fuck" (pardon the language--but he was the worst cat we ever had).

Luke has been on only cat for years now. Bern refers to him as 'our last cat', and he probably is.

He's been great and always inside. Annoying as cat's can be--but wonderful.

He's not in pain and runs upstairs as fast as always, but he sleeps most of the time and eats so little.

We've said goodbye to so many creatures over the years. But I will miss Luke greatly. I love him more than any cat I've known.

Pet's are so wonderful. But when they die it is a clean, clear pain.

It will be for Luke.

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.