My 'other' cat,Graybee,died yesterday. He was about 8-9 years old. Old for a feral cat. The colony now numbers 6.
Graybee was one of the first to figure out that I was his friend. When I rattled the dish,he came running. When I shook the treat bag..he sprinted.
And when chicken was involved?..well,..stand back..he charged!..
He was one of the smartest cats I have ever known. He would pull the dish away from the others, closer to HIS feeding spot!
He was very affectionate with me,even allowing friends to pet him once in a while. He would move into the warehouse when the weather got cold and wet. Preferring his little bed,his own dish,and litter box to the great outdoors.
He had been losing weight over the summer,and in my heart, I knew this was his last summer. He was always a bit frailer than the others,so I treated him to lots of good chicken,turkey,and beef bits.
I brought him home on Thursday,he refused any water or food. Preferring to just sleep,and have me pet him,purring always. He seemed to know that he was always safe with me,and once he was in the house,seemed to just let himself go,relax and accept he was going to be crossing Rainbow Bridge,with me by his side.
He died quietly,purring...
Good bye my little friend. So glad to have met you...and loved you...
Mom.
