Month: November 2018

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Mr. Rabbit has died.

I was looking back at my blog, and I saw I hadn’t posted this here. I’m retroactively posting it for that time.

Mr. Rabbit has died. I wish I could say it was peacefully. I kept my hands on him until he was gone, so that he was not alone in those final moments. It breaks my heart.

We brought him to the vet in a rush, as I wasn’t sure he’d be around tomorrow. He’s thin. He’s so fluffy I hadn’t noticed, but he’s just bones really. His temperature was so low the vet couldn’t check it. He’s had a round of fluids, and some antibiotics.

It didn’t help. It was too little, too late. I don’t think he was even conscious at the end. God, I hope he wasn’t. It was a horrible end. It looked agonizing. All I could do was hang onto him as he failed.

It’s been months (this is being posted from 2019), and this memory still makes me flinch hard. Still brings tears to my eyes.

Mr Rabbit, I’m so sorry the end took you like that.

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Old black kitty has died.


A year ago I noticed an old black cat was hanging around. It looked thin. Starved. I suspected it’d been abandoned.


I gave it a bowl of food, and the desperation with which it ate struck a chord with me. It took three full cereal bowls before it finally walked away. I resolved to feed it. One additional cat would hardly break the bank.


It took months before it stopped forcing down absolutely every scrap it was offered. Months before it started looking a bit less gaunt. It did improve though, and the frequency with which we saw it convinced me it really didn’t have a home.


We set up a few insulated pet houses outside, to keep the wind and rain off. Old black was joined by old grey, and the two of them would spend hours sleeping on the furniture outside, or wandering the yard.
Old black would come over anytime I came outside and loudly demand attention, usually in the form of scratches. Needle sharp claws presented if he was ignored for too long.


A few days ago I noticed old black wasn’t coming by for food. He was spending a lot of time sleeping, but I didn’t see him eating anything. Yesterday I didn’t see him at all — and that was weird, since this was essentially home base.


This morning I found him. Half out of one of the houses, and face down. Gone.


It’s obviously been a few hours, he’s cold. I’ve wrapped him in a soft towel, and again in plastic, and in a few hours I’ll take him to the vet for cremation.


It’s not the least I could do, but it is all I can offer. One final bit of dignity.

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A consideration posted to Facebook

I haven’t said it in a while.

I appreciate the chance I’ve had to be a part of your lives. To peer in from the outside, to occasionally be invited in. To bear witness to your great moments.. and the ones that weren’t really so great after all.

I’m bad at socializing, and even worse at keeping in touch. That said, I value the moments we’ve shared, as friends, as acquaintances, as colleagues, and sometimes as opponents.

I firmly believe you’re all worth knowing (or you wouldn’t still be on my friends list). I believe I’m lucky to have met you. I hope the next time our paths cross, you’ll remember me fondly, or even just a little.

Thank you.

Now, that said, I had a friend ask if I had a terminal illness (or was otherwise abandoning facebook).  I realized at that point that yeah, it looks like that, as people don’t tend to say the things they feel most strongly until they’re almost out of time.

That’s not the case here, and I feel better for saying it now instead of waiting until that moment.