Best buddy

His shelter name was Hornby, which we kept. Like all pets, more names became attached to him, including The Dude, Bodhi, and Willis (as in "whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?" from Different Strokes). We also used things that weren't really names, like "funny boy," "puddin'," and especially "buddy" or "buddy boy."

He was what cat behaviourist Jackson Galaxy calls a "beach dweller." He didn't especially like being up high. He never had a thing for empty boxes. Instead, he would lie in the middle of a floor, taking up space, completely at ease.

He was a lover, not a fighter. When VOKRA brought him in from a cat colony at a fish plant, he had a nasty gash across the bridge of his nose, as well as evidence of earlier fights, like his chewed up right ear. But with us, from the start, he was a big cuddle bug. He looked like a bruiser, but he wasn't belligerent. We figured his wounds were probably defensive.

He loved our scents and our warmth. He sniffed our shoes and boots after we took them off. He would sleep anywhere we had been sitting, whether futon or sofa or office chair. He would sleep or lie down on laps, but he was very particular about where and when. Sometimes he just wanted to be nearby, as when he would sit on the ottoman while we watched TV.

He adored his Nanny K, our long-time cat sitter. We didn't go away often, but when we did, it was almost a treat for him. Nanny would come by once or twice a day. She is the epitome of a cat person, and he just lapped it up. They got along famously. And the rest of the time, he seems to have entertained himself, probably largely by sleeping, as cats do.

He would always greet us when we came home, whether we had been away for an evening or were returning from a vacation. As much as he loved Nanny, he was always happy when his peeps were back. If he was awake, we might see him in the front window, mah-ing at us. If he had been asleep, he very quickly ran down the stairs to say hi.

He loved meeting whoever came to the door. He especially loved trades and service people. He sucked up to every one of them who let him. He was quite a charmer.

Clanky noises, metal on metal, were among the few noises that scared him. He must have gone through something bad that involved falling metal, and he never got desensitized to the sound. He didn't like loud sounds in general, and he was sadly not a music lover.

Curiously, one sound he loved was the paper shredder. He would react to the inkjet printer as well. Something about those sounds made him come running. Sweetie thought he must have lived in a house with an electric can opener.

Bird watching

He might have used up a several of his nine lives along the way. He was a stray, so he either got away or was dumped. He survived a cat colony, though not unscathed. He went through a course of radiation treatment for a thyroid issue. Right in the middle of serious Covid restrictions in summer 2020, he had a urinary blockage that quickly went south and put him in Boundary Bay Veterinary Specialty Hospital in Langley.

Probably the most insidious condition he lived with was inflammation. It wasn't from arthritis, because he was always lithe and active. We put him on a limited diet that avoided things (such as grains) that tests showed he was allergic to, but something bothered him that we never identified. Every few months, he would get "bitey," and when he did, we knew he was feeling irritated, and possibly in pain. He would get a steroid shot at the vet that would improve things for several months but could never cure it.

He died on September 23rd during an afternoon nap on "his" (our) bed, one of his favourite places. It was most likely a heart attack, even though the only heart condition that had been identified was a murmur. At any rate, he seems to have gone peacefully.

Sweetie and I are reminded of him pretty much every day, even almost two and a half months later. We never thought of him as our "child," but he was definitely a roommate and part of the life of the house. We still feel his absence.