Monday was a bad day. I lost my faithful Buster Cat, drove over 400 miles, and saw a really sucky concert. I don’t want to repeat anything like that again, ever.
It all started a week ago Tuesday. My big Buster Cat spent the day under the bed. We didn’t think too much about it. It had stormed that day and even at almost 30 libs., he was frightened by thunder, and the vacuum cleaner. these were fears he shared with his mother Rochelle, who was 5 lbs. of badass when it came to anything but thunder and vacuum cleaners.
I did have a cat once who showed no fear of the Hoover, she would to the awe 0f the other cats even take a swipe at the machine when you came too close. for this she was considered a minor Goddess in the cat world.
But back to Buster, he wasn’t an adoptee. He was an orphan, but not an adoptee. His dad didn’t stick around and his mother being a sesible cat deposited herself on our doorstep ready to be an indoor cat when she found out that she was pregnant. So Buster Cat knew the joy of biological attachment. Anyway, we didn’t get concerned until he didn’t come out from under the bad the next day.
I got Buster to the local vet, who in all his wisdom, declared that he was sick, gave him some pink stuff, and left on vacation for a week. This was about what I expected, that seems to be what he always does. Usually the pink stuff helps. It didn’t this time.
By last Friday we knew we had to do something. So we took him to a new vet, about 20 miles away, that did run some tests and gave him a new prescription. Buster got worse over the weekend. I made him an appointment for Monday. I was pretty sure I knew what was going to happen.
There just wasn’t anymore to do for Buster. He had an autoimmune disease the wasn’t any treatment for. He was suffering. I said my goodbyes. I took him home in a box.
We buried him beside his mother.
I miss him. Buster was always calm in the storm that is my house full 4 of cats. He was the one that always slept with us and was there with us for morning coffee. He was my sense of home. I always thought of Buster beside me purring when I was too long at work, or too far away from home. He was wise and calm and my center. I don’t now what I’ll do without him.
He was the skinniest runtyest kitten in that litter. All legs and tail. We told him that he was going to have to do a lot of growing if he was going to fit in all those stripes. He did. He was a huge cat, and not at all heavy until the last couple of years. At his best, he weighed 25 lbs. and was hard as a brick. People would be amazed when they saw him. They would even bring people over to see him. Buster took this in stride, more loving for him, seemed to be his attitude.
Now I have 3 cats.
I don’t know what I’ll do without my Buster Cat.