...so bad right now.
I'm sitting in the back of my truck, and I just want to be home.
After I split out of Twin Falls this afternoon, I got a call from my Mom, to tell me that Baron, our oldest cat, had had to be put down.
He'd had an enlarged heart for years, and we just recently found out he had a tumor in his chest as well, that couldn't be operated on because he couldn't withstand the sedatives.
Mom came home today and found him on the back porch, and he couldn't manage to get up anymore.
It was a pretty fast decline. He was diagnosed with the enlarged heart a few years ago, but meds got him back on his toes, even if he moved a little slow. A couple months ago, we noticed he was taking forever to find a position to lay down in. I guess we should have realized something more than just old age was at play, but we didn't figure it out until the tumor moved out from under his ribcage and became visible a week ago. I saw him on Friday, and he could just manage to jump up on the desk under his own power, but was a bit unsteady. I guess he just crashed today. I was hoping he'd hang on till I got home, but
I remember when we got him. We had moved out to Pataskala back in 90, and Mom had been promising for the longest that we could get another cat(Bucket, my Mom'* cat at the time, was a mean old b*tch, not a cat that you play with). He was the only cat we ever got from a petstore, and Sean and I swore that we would look at every kitten in the store before we chose one. As it turned out, Baron was the only one awake in the enitire place. I think it was kind of meant to be, bcause he turned out to be the most well-adjusted animal we've ever had.
We didn't have a name for him for almost a month, but Sean was taking German, and he was an idiotic little fuzz-head, so he got the appalling name of Baron Von Fluffenbrain VI, which quickly got shortened to Baron.
He actually spent the first few months in our house hiding under furniture, because Bucket quickly got fed up with his antics and just beat the stuffing out of him whenever she caught him.
We think we might have gotten him a bit young, maybe seperated from momma too soon, because he still wanted to look for nipple if he slept on something soft. He also liked sleeping on Dad'* head, so every now and then Dad would wake up to needle-sharp kitten teeth in the ear.
As a kitten he had the puzzling habit of running head-on into the dining room wall at full tilt. I figured out years later that he was doing it to hear the spring-loaded plate-hanger on the wall go "Boing-oing-oing...".
He also loved those damn laser pointer things. You could keep him going in circles until he literally fell over or until he ran into something. Getting him to chase it onto Dad'* paper was a sure-fire way to liven up an evening.
I remember his first Junebug experience. One got in the house was buzzing around. Baron, the mighty hunter, knocked him down after stalking him around the room for awhile, and it landed on it'* back and buzzed madly around on the tile. Baron, curious as ever, went over and took a sniff before committing to the kill, and the thing latched onto his nose! I've never seen a cat jump that high, before or since!
He was a battler, too. I don't think he ever lost a fight with any of the local cats, and I know he chased several of them into the creek and took major chunks out of others. He had a notch in his right ear from one particularly hard-won victory that went on for most of a night. After a while he started to look like an old boxer from all the scars on his nose.
He used to be a heckuva hunter too. He was always bringing home some bird or mouse show off to Mom. It was bad, because in the winter, he'd bring them up to the back door, and if he had to wait a while, he'd lose interest and drop them there. When the first thaw came, I'd step outside to look around and fil the birdfeeders, and the first step I took out the door, I'd feel this horrible "squish", under my slippers...
As he got older and slower, he became this unflappable, placid personality. He was perfectly content to lay on someone'* chest in the hammock for hours at a time.
He had the loudest purr, and when he lay on your chest, you could feel it from your toes to your scalp. It just rumbled through you like the world'* best massage chair.
He was a social cat too. Most of our other cats would disappear as soon as a stranger walked in, but Baron would just size up a room full of people, then go directly to the person he knows will scratch all the right places.
He loved jumping up on the computer desk while you were working and just laying down on your wrists. We got so used to it that it we would just pet him until he lay down and continue working around him, and he'd just sit and purr.
Here he is "assisiting" Mom sometime earlier this year.
I miss him already, I don't think I'm going to sleep well tonight, I'm kind of busted right now.
Mom and Dad are burying him under the hammock trees, in one of his favorite shady spots.