Bolan

Hey beautiful black cat. I guess it's time to say goodbye to you. I hope you had a fantastic life. I know my life is all the more fantastic because you were in it.

I wasn't there to meet you that summer's day in 2006 when your mother called & told me "I found a black kitten with no whiskers!"  You were at the vet clinic & the vets knew that she had wanted a black kitten & also that she studied whiskers.  She said, "Can we adopt him?" & I never could say no to her.  She introduced us when she picked me up at work.

You joined a household with two other cats & two dogs.  You were such a bundle of energy that we honestly didn't quite know what to do with you. I decided to name you "Bolan" because it seemed like you were born to boogie.

Fortunately you did have a cat to teach you how to cat - your brother Buster.

But we always did say you were as cool as you were because you were raised by dogs.  Lazy beagle dogs.

Not that I didn't adore you, but I knew you were your mother's cat. She picked you, after all. She loved you & you reciprocated. It was cute & sickening.

You were so busy growing up that you probably didn't notice how much fun you were to have around. Certainly it was an adventure - you would spend the nights killing the giant cockroaches that wandered into our house & leaving their crunchy carcasses for me to step on - barefoot - in the mornings.  Magda wanted a small cat but you got big - at your tubbiest you weighed 23 pounds!  But you were mainly a cuddler - you even cuddled with your sister Beatrice, who didn't generally like to be cuddled.

& though you would spend the entire drive meowing non-stop, you traveled with us from Austin to West Virginia.  & there, in August of 2009, the best thing in the world that could have ever happened to you happened to you.  We adopted Bronte.  The two of you lived a love story from the moment she came into your life.

You two were inseparable. You'd groom each other & it would look like you were making out.

Even when you'd sit together, it would seem like you were holding hands.  It was cute & sickening.

Not to say you didn't also love your little brother Boone!  You made him feel very welcome in our home.

Meowing non-stop in the back of the car, you traveled to Kentucky with us, then back to Texas, then here to Portland.  I do think you liked it here.  Almost certainly you never wanted for love. You demanded it & you got it.

When Bronte took ill, you gave her the space she needed, & when she left us, you spent more time with me.  The last year & a half were quite wonderful for me - we became such good friends. You were such a loud cat, you'd meow when I came to bed, & purr next to me as I fell asleep petting you. A handsome boy, so friendly to visitors & such an unmistakably warm presence in our household.

You had a lot of health issues - I've mentioned them on this blog before (that blog entry links to other Bolan stories) - issues including a bout with triaditis that almost took you from us two years ago.  You were so strong, though, so resilient, that I foolishly imagined you could beat almost anything.

Maybe at some point I'll talk about this last month, about the arrogant vets who were dismissive about our concerns, about the emergency room visit this past week where we had to accept your fate, about how I will always feel like I didn't do enough to save you.  What is true now is that you're no longer in any pain.  Oh you would've stayed with us longer, to be sure, but we knew, because you weren't eating & holy shit did you love to eat, that you were not well.  So my sweet friend we needed to let you go.

Let's imagine for a moment the universe is kind & let's be glad you're with your beloved Bronte again.  Maybe say hi to Buster & Beatrice too, & the beagles - George, Ringo, & of course Winston, with whom you also liked to hang out.

It's not a kind universe or course & it's not fair that the two of you died exactly six weeks apart.  Our little house is so empty & it has taken me hours to write all this.  I have been getting lost in all the pictures I have of you - how glad I am we had so many pictures! - & it's not easy to write about you through all the tears.

But Bolan, some of those tears are tears of gratitude.  What a fine cat you were.  A gentle panther, a good & faithful friend. Your absence won't be easily filled. You were exceptional in every way. My dear old Bobo. Goodbye.