Mon. Jan 17, 2011
In Memory of Bosco, 1992-2011
Today we had to have our beloved Bosco put to sleep. Susan picked him out of the just born litter in 1992. I’ve know him since 1995, and lived with him since 1999. He had a long (18 years, 9 months) full, and happy life. But we already miss him terribly.
He was full of personality, and if there ever was a kitty that was a joker, it was him. He often tried to “pick a fight” with me, as I was the only one who would play with him in that way (and often had the skin punctures to prove it). He’d plop down next to whatever chair I was in, then shake his head and snort at me, as if to say “I can take ya.”
He was also a “tail talker.” He’d wrap it around your hand, or thump it on the floor when he was agitated, or playing. I’d tap my foot twice, he’d respond with two thumps of his tail.
When I had a panic attack a few years back, Susan called 911, and our living room was soon filled with large firemen and EMT’s, checking me out in various ways on the couch. Bosco planted himself about six feet in front of me, and would not be moved by these large men, as he watched me with kitty concern.
Shortly before that, the cat I’d raised from a kitten, Fuji, had passed away. Fuji always treated him like a pesky suitor (though they were both “fixed”), and he acted like she was his “unrequited love.” When she passed, he visibly mourned for her, and seemed to completely understand that I was, too. He made a tough time a bit easier.
I’m hoping Susan can lean on our other kitties in the same way, as she is quite torn up today, as am I. He occupied a very special place in our life, one that is now painfully empty, never to be filled again.