Sixteen years of pure, unconditional love came to an end for me on Wednesday. I will never forget the joy he brought to me. My heart is broken but also filled with sweet memories.
My big lion-cat Rex fell asleep forever Wednesday in his favorite place in the world. My arms.
I couldn’t sit anywhere in my house without Rex finding his way onto my lap or nestling into one of my arms. At 22 Lbs at the peak of his strength, it wasn’t easy to refuse him.
Just two years ago, his sister Rosie succumbed to an inoperable tumor. She was his constant companion and playmate. They would rumble through the house like a pair of giant kittens. Rosie at 16 Lbs and Rex at 22, I often had them both in my lap, until one or the other decided that they wanted undivided attention, signaled by a tap to the head, or a low growl. I would let them resolve their differences on their own, but almost always made it up to the rejected party.
I got these two from a shelter not too long after losing my cat Cindy to old age. I was still grieving and determined not to get another cat until my kids sent me a listing for these two from a shelter about 50 miles from home.
Rosie was the instantly affectionate one, in a small crate mixed with all the other cats in the shelter. I took her from her crate and handed her to my kids after a quick cuddle. There was an instant bond.
Rex, on the other hand, was in a separate dog-sized crate sitting on the floor in the middle of the cat room at the shelter. The volunteers at the shelter were afraid to handle Rex because of his size and his unique ability to deliver a nasty bite with his huge fangs. There was talk among the volunteers about putting Rex down because of it. These people didn’t recognize fear when they saw it, so I told them I would be taking them both home that day. I sat on the floor next to the crate and quietly talked to Rex. after a short time, he came over to the side of the crate and let me gently scratch his side. I think that was the very first moment of what became my sixteen-year bond, he took possession of me. I became his exclusive protector and friend for the first couple of weeks at my home. He would only come out of hiding if I was the only one in the room. He would nervously find his way to my lap and sometimes nip or bite— hard if I wasn’t petting him in the precise manner he preferred.
Over time, he became outgoing, greeting strangers to my home as if they were old friends. He became as goofy as Maine Coons are known to be as he adopted us as a family
He could jump straight up from the floor into my arms and climb to a perch draped over my neck, trusting me to hang on to him as I walked through the house. He loved everyone, but I was always his human.
Rex had been in decline after a bout with hyperthyroidism, and surgery to remove the problem gland. It was stressful to his overall system, causing a very sudden and drastic weight loss.
The stress on his other organs was not evident in all the subsequent testing. The vet told me that there could have been other underlying conditions that were preventing him from making a full recovery. He hung in there for almost a year but in the recent weeks I could see that he was becoming weaker, his joints stiffening, and other indications that his kidneys were failing.
In the past two weeks, he began wandering around the house looking a bit lost, meowing loudly until I would pick him up.
Once he became listless and started to fall over on his side just attempting to jump on a low couch cushion, I knew the end was imminent.
So on Wednesday I took him to the vet and got to hold him in my arms as he peacefully went to sleep for the last time.
Rex was my constant through some troubling times and major upheavals in my personal life. He was always there as my protector, providing unwavering companionship, loyalty, and a purity of love that I have never encountered in a human being. My grief is deep and profound, but my friend is now beyond all sadness and pain. I will bear that for him now, and dissipate it into the world with the joy of his memory. He will live on in my broken heart and will be the glue at its center to help it heal.
Long live the king.
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