Remembering Rex

It is through tears tonight that I tell you of the passing of my furry friend, Rex. He lost his will to live yesterday and his battle to live today. He died with dignity, on his own terms, three hours shy of the veterinary appointment that was to decide his fate.

Rex came into my life more than a dozen years ago. He was a matted ball of long fur at the Montgomery County Animal Shelter. He was several months old and available for immediate adoption because he had been returned for a cash refund by someone who thought he was "too active". (I always thought he simply hated the name they gave him -- "Archie".) At the shelter he snuggled close to my heart, and consequently, it opened right up for him. He didn't snuggle much after that -- but then again he didn't need to. He had me at "Hello".

I named him Rex because that huge, fluffy ruff seemed so regal. And he lived up to his name carrying himself like a King among Kittens. "Maine Coon" -- cat people would say as he moved so elegantly, so stealth-like, on those massive paws. He would show up out of nowhere and survey a situation with those piercing green eyes. And like royalty he stayed above the fray at home -- Switzerland he was, befriending Satch, Martin and even Mack while avoiding most every cat-astrophe. He lived with me in 5 different homes adjusting to each like a champ. He would ride silently in the car for 7 hours at a stretch to get to North Carolina and Gammy C's birds.

He weathered it all with me -- heartbreak, happiness and eventually, a husband. My baby before there were babies welcomed each new arrival home -- with a sniff. He was patient with tail-pulling toddlers. He tolerated excessive petting and unnecessary roughness. He was nearly self-sufficient as my life became a ride on the Autobahn.

The end came so quickly it is almost shocking. I think back to two weeks ago when he was still making the gymnastic leap from the clothes dryer to the top of the laundy room cabinets. Rex always loved a perch. It was a week and two days ago that I thought he was looking thin so I switched him from diet food to his first encounter with wet food. In his final days he dined on beef, and turkey and tuna tidbits. By Monday, his weight loss was dramatic. By Tuesday, he hardly moved from his sleepy spot. And Wednesday night is when he let me know. He clenched his teeth firmly when I brought food to him. I tried to pour water into his mouth -- and then I tried to feed him with a baby bottle -- but he wouldn't budge. And so it came to pass that on his last night on this Earth I wrapped him in a blanket and the girls and I took turns holding him. We sang silly songs to him and the girls crumbled treats into their tiny hands to try and tempt him. I sat with him for hours on the couch, stroking his head, keeping him warm, aware of every vertebra on his skinny frame. We talked about everything we'd been through. Well, I talked and he listened, like always. I sat with him throughout the night and at 1 in the morning when he looked at me with a mournful expression and eyes I don't believe worked anymore, I told him if it was just too much he could let go. He gave me a big brush of that feather-duster tail and I hope it meant he understood.

He made it through the night only to position himself closer to the playroom Thursday morning. He was surrounded by the now-familiar sounds of children as he napped on his favorite piece of carpet. When I had to leave to take Sophia to school I told him I would be back at lunchtime to check on him and then back again at 3:00 for his Doctor's Appointment.

We never made it. Sometime between 10:00 am and Noon he let go. We buried him close to the pond. He would have loved to torment those fish with his big paws.

And then the next excruciating phase began - I had to explain to Sophia and Francesca what had happened to their friend. I told them that Rex had gone to Heaven. That brought tears and wails of "wanting to hug him again" and "wanting to show him our projects". They wanted to know "How did he get to heaven - on an airplane?" "When will we see him again?" And Sophia was most distressed and wanted to know when Martin was going to get old and sick and go to heaven, too. She also declared she "liked the cat she had". I explained through my own sobs that Heaven is where Rex can play with Satch again and that his body will always be as young as his spirit and in Heaven there is always a warm, sunny patch on the kitchen floor.

My sadness is tremendous but I know Rex had a good time while he was here. He picked the right Mommy on the other side of the cage that day at the shelter.

The first day we knew each other he snuggled close to my heart and the last day we spent together he returned to the same place. It's the spot where you will find him forever. Deep inside my heart.