RIP Cuc

Last night Cuc was curled up in his customary place bhind my computer, and I skritched him and had a brief conversation before going to bed. I've been meaning to post an update about how much better he was doing. His bloodwork came back very healthy -- nary a hint of kidney problems, none of the hyperthyroidism that he seemed to have a mild case of a couple of years ago. While he was still having problems with his left leg, he'd regained most of the control of the right on the prednisone, and we were hoping that given some more time he might heal further. He'd had a good appetite, and was insisting on doing typically dumb ass things like hauling himself through the cat door. (Our cat door is in a low window, and the kitties jump up onto an upended log and then climb through it.)

This morning he was stretched out in one of his customary sprawls, but he is dead.

He was seventeen, which isn't a bad life by any standard. He's been with me for slightly more than half my life. There was some discussion that he'd had a spinal stroke, which had accounted for the loss of lower body mobility. So perhaps he had another stroke, I don't know. That he died at home, quickly, and in good spirits was certainly a mercy. I've certainly been present for deaths that were far worse.

I'm going to miss him terribly.

(no subject)

( Poetry, possibly squicky )