cat – Boolie

Samwise 2007 – 2022

Oh this hurts. Sam’s heart failed and we had him euthanized a little while ago. He died peacefully, curled up in my lap and purring until the anesthesia took hold. I’m glad he didn’t suffer and that we could be with him at the end, but his loss is going to sting for a while. This was my view for most of the past fourteen years, Sam asleep in my lap. The background behind him changed at times, as did the cast of characters curled up beside him, but he was my constant companion throughout his life.

I’ll write more later when the tears aren’t streaming so steadily.

Old Cat, New Trick

Boo looks at Sam in one of his Boo Boxes, both a little proud that for once he could teach big brother a new trick instead of the other way round, but also realizing the box he wants might now be occupied. Fortunately for Boo Sam only sleeps in the boxes on occasion, plus Boo generally prefers the smaller boxes while Sam only likes the big ones.

From December when I was playing around with the Nikon.

At Least It’s Friday …

If it looks like he’s being punished this is how Boo chooses to sleep many evenings, when I sit down on the couch he wedges himself into the gap between me and the edge of the couch. The Great Boneless Boo excels at squeezing into tight spots but the problem is when I’m working on my laptop my right elbow wants to go where a smushed up Boo resides. Sometimes he’ll curl up on my legs as he is now, the other night when his siblings came in to join him the problem became that with a Sam / Trixie / Boo train running down my legs there was no lap left for the laptop.

Good problems to have.

Happiness is a Pillow Named Samwise

The Perfect Tuck

Boo in my second favorite of his sleeping positions, the one I call The Full Louganis as his perfect tuck reminds me of Olympic divers. Despite appearances he does have arms, but our boneless Boo doesn’t always follow the laws of physics. I’m about 90% convinced he’s from this universe and about 70% convinced he’s from this planet.

Late Winter Morning

Sam sleeping on our bed late on a winter morning. When I get home from work he’s usually either sleeping here with brother Boo or sitting on my footstool, waiting for me to come home. As soon as I sit down he jumps up for a snuggle, he may have the expected muscle loss for a cat his age but he is as sweet as ever.

The Boo Hypothesis

Mathematicians may want to prove the Riemann Hypothesis, physicists a Unified Field Theory, but I’d be happy just to understand how Boo can go headfirst into such a small box and turn around inside it.

Between Storms

Trixie sleeps on a throw pillow in the fall, in between the sound and fury of the summer monsoons and the gentler winter rains. Even in winter if the rain comes with a bit of wind she may sneak beneath the blankets, just in case. So spare a thought for her and her brothers with the storm coming on Monday, as we’re getting the roof replaced. And unlike the house in Portland, there’s no respite two floors down where you can hide, this house is but one floor.

A Winter’s Yawn

The warmth of the winter sun in the desert almost makes up for the loss of the wooden grate in the house in Portland that blew warm air on your belly as you slept.

Almost.

Tag: cat