Our much-loved cat, Buster, died last week during exploratory surgery for cancer. His death was unexpected and shocking to Lisa and I. We have been grieving over his absence for the last week.
Lisa was given Buster by a good friend from a litter of three kittens in 1992. He was inspiration to Lisa for one of her short stories and provided loving (but occasionally frustrating) companionship for her until I moved in back in 1998. Buster was leery of me for some time, but finally grew to accept my presence and even enjoy some petting and play with me.
Lisa told me a story about Buster in his kitten days that I think is typical of him; when Bus was 4 months old, he was full of energy and would race around the apartment like a comet. One afternoon while Lisa was working on a story while sitting on the couch and Bus was running all over the apartment. Lisa had attached a small fan to the sliding glass doors onto the balcony. As Bus came running back into the living room, for some reason he decided to jump up onto the fan and came up a little short. He caught one of his nails on the edge of the fan and hung down from the fan screaming bloody murder. His sound was so powerful and loud, Lisa literally jumped up out of the coach to see what the problem was. When she saw what he had done, she immediately got him free from the fan, but not before the whole apartment complex was treated to the apparent sounds of murder in our apartment. Lisa tells me she fully expected the police to arrive about the screams.
That was Buster.
Buster was a handsome, tawny colored cat with beautiful gold eyes. Lisa often referred to him as the "Errol Flynn" of cats. Of course, he was spoiled rotten. Lisa would do pretty much anything for Buster. And Bus trusted her so much, he would go limp in her arms. I was audience to several "puppet" shows with Buster where she would use Busters paws and legs to dance or act our little monologues and scenes. He never seemed to mind and just loved all of the attention.
Buster, despite his lean appearance, would eat just about anything Lisa gave him.She would experiment to see just how far he would go in eating "people food". She once gave him a Mexican pepper and he just gobbled it right down. We loved to eat spaghetti since Lisa would hold an individual spaghetti strand over Busters head and he’d eat it down inch by inch. It never failed to amuse.
Buster could also be a pain sometimes. He developed a neurosis about Lisa and I working at our computers (they are side by side) and would pace back in front of our monitors created many misspelled words and much craning of necks. He also developed a particularly piteous meow that after a couple hours (he was a long distance meower) would drive us to contemplate murder. Sometimes we’d put him outside on the balcony and close the glass door so he couldn’t come back in. But the site of him looking back in at us and the silent meows he’d make kept us from putting him outside for any length of time. We just tried put up with it.
That was Buster.
Busters last days were ok for him. He still had problems breathing, but they had subsided and he was eating regularly again. Our vet had sent out x-rays to a specialist and they had indicated that there was something in his trachea. On a recommendation from a trusted friend, we too, buster to a much larger vet hospital where he was scheduled for a "bronchoscopy" (fiber optic camera down his throat too see what the obstruction is). The doctor there warned us the procedure was risky, but we decided to go ahead and have it done.
While Lisa was at a friends high school graduation, I got a call at work from the doctor who told me that Buster’s throat was almost completely blocked by a cancerous growth and that the walls of his trachea were cancerous. They had damaged his throat because of the cancer and he had gone into cardiac arrest. Sadly, after thinking it through with the doctor, I had to decide to euthanize poor Buster on the operating table. Later, when Lisa called in after the graduation ceremony, I had to give her the bad news. She took it hard, just as did.
We went to the animal hospital and said our goodbyes to Buster. The people at the hospital were very considerate and sympathetic. It was hard seeing Busters lifeless body after having him as a good friend for so many years. If not for Lisa’s sense of humor, I think I probably would have collapsed right there.
We loved Buster very much. He was like a family member to us. Now, when I look around the apartment and expect to see him in the spots he hangs out in, he’d not there and a pang of grief goes through me. I really, really hate death. I know it’s inevitable for all of us (and our pets), but I don’t have to like it no matter what the philosphers and pyschologists say. Death stinks as far as I’m concerned. Buster had a good 5 years left in his live. Goddamn cancer.
……………….
Lisa has made a livejournal blog entry on Buster. She knew Buster longer than I did and has some wonderful things to say about their relationship and his death. You can read it here.(It’s the June 19th entry)
Over the last week, Lisa and I have pulled out several photographs of Buster which I’ve made into an Album. You can view them as a slideshow or individually. Just click "slideshow" or on an individual picture to start viewing them.
My favorite picture of Buster is the last one in the collection. He loved to sun himself on the window sill in our bedroom. As he grew older, I think the warmth of the sun was a comfort to him. He would frequently meow towards me if he wanted to be picked up and put on the window sill, even though he could jump up there on his own easily. I loved doing that for him and petting him afterwards. ‘I’d talk with him a bit and he’d turn his head towards the sun and the warmth. His fur would get so hat you didn’t know how he could stand it.
That’s how I’ll remember Buster; his head towards the sun, calm and happy.
Goodbye, Buster…..I’ll miss you very much.
[GALLERY=1]
Continue reading
Buster, cat, memorial
.jpg)
