;)
There is a certain pain that sometimes strikes me in the prostate when I am sleeping and it is horrible. It usually lasts somewhere between half-an-hour and an hour and then it goes away and I can go back to sleep. I had barely fallen into a strange, colorful and bizarre dream that was taking place simultaneously in three separate frames when that pain woke me at 12:20 AM Tuesday morning.
I did not want to believe it was coming on, because I never want to believe it. I always want to imagine that if I just think it gone it will be gone and I can sleep on. It never works that way. Only the cats and I were home. Margie had gone to spend the week in town babysitting Jobe and Caleb was at work.
I waited for the pain to go away as usual, but it did not. One AM passed, then 2:00, then 3:00. About 3:20, just because I wanted to change my surroundings, I left my bedroom and headed to my office, where I stayed for somewhere between two and three minutes, then turned to go back into the house.
When I opened the garage door into the living room, I smelled something horrid. Then I saw Royce, lying very still on the checkered rug somewhere between two and three feet from the door, eyes open, the left side of his face against the rug, his front paws framing his face. He looked dead. I could see no breath. I could hear no sounds.
His eyes did not blink.
He had not been lying there when I had entered my office, but now he was. I knelt down beside him and placed one hand on his chest. Suddenly, without moving his body, he took a gasp of a breath, then lay still again. Perhaps 30 seconds later, he took another breath.
I could see that nothing could be done for him. He was dying, but why? It looked to me as though he had been struck down. The only thing that I could think of was maybe he had a stroke. I wondered if he was suffering? I ran my hand up to his windpipe and for a moment thought that maybe I would just squeeze and end any pain that he might be experiencing.
But I couldn't. He was going. He was leaving this world and if he had any consciousness at all I did not want his final memory to be of me choking him. Plus, he did not look to be in pain. So I just sat with him, stroking him, saying a few things to him now and then, waiting for him to die. Every now and then, I would grab a paper towel and pick up the poop that kept coming out of him.
I put another tissue under his face to catch the drool.
Fifteen minutes passed and he was still alive. I hated the fact that he was lying on the floor, dying on the dirty rug, so I went back into my office and got the little bed that I had made nine years ago for Jim from a Mac laptop computer box, placed Royce in it then sat on the couch with him on my lap.
Chicago and Jim quickly joined us. Chicago positioned herself at the head end of the box, Jimmy on the arm rest. Pistol-Yero came, but sat on the far arm of the couch.
Remember, Chicago and Royce have always been friends. I wondered what she knew?
Just before Royce died, she climbed up to the back of the couch, crossed behind me, then put her paws on my shoulder, her face next to my face. At the moment Royce died, about 4:05 AM, Chicago was looking into the box, right at him. I took the above picture very shortly afterward.
I remained where I was with Royce on my lap and one hand stroking him for another hour. I called Melanie but got no answer. I sent text messages out to everybody. Rex called back within minutes. Then Melanie called.
Finally, I put Royce on a high shelf in the garage and then went back to bed. It was nearing 5:30 AM now. As usual when I go to bed, Jim and Pistol-Yero joined me. A few minutes later, I heard a mournful, mournful, sorrowful cry out in the hallway. It was Chicago, who never sleeps with us.
I got back up, opened the door and saw the wailing Chicago down the hall. She stopped her cry, came running to me. She followed me to the bed, jumped up and crawled under the covers with me. It had never happened this way before. There she stayed until 8:00 AM, when the phone rang and I had to get up.
;)
I hung up the phone and went back to bed, but it rang again about two minutes later. It was all business stuff. I decided just to stay up and go get breakfast at Family Restaurant. I got a good seat in the corner with my back to the wall and a window to look out of.
Soon, I heard a distant whistle, then a low rumble. The train came along.
My order came not long afterward. As I was eating it, I was surprised to hear another whistle, and then to feel another rumble in the earth.
It was a two-train breakfast.
That doesn't often happen.
;)
In the afternoon, after I had gone out to deal with a bizarre happening that I will one day write about but not yet, I was in the car and came to a stoplight, right alongside and just beneath this car.
;)
In the evening, beginning with Lisa, the family began to trickle in from Anchorage for the funeral. She had left work early this day to go home and be with her two cats. I still had Royce in the box in the garage. She went to see him and wept.
;)
Melanie arrived later. She spent some time playing with Kalib, who was a bit sick, then came out to see the kitten that she had loved from the day it left the womb, the kitten that I had told her we could not keep, but when I saw the love I had tied a blue ribbon around his neck and then presented him to her on her birthday.
Now, she petted him and then began to work the knots out of his fur.
;)
Then she got a cat brush and smoothed him out real good. I was amazed at how good he looked when she was done.
;)
The boys set about to dig the grave as Lisa gathered rocks to place atop it.
;)
According to the Navajo belief she lives by, at this stage in her motherhood Lavina could not look upon Royce, nor could Kalib or Jobe. She could fix dinner. She did. Corn chowder.
;)
We brought Royce outside for the final viewing. Everybody shared a memory or two or three or more of him.
;)
When Jacob remembered how Royce had once saved him from getting a speeding ticket, everybody laughed. Tomorrow, I will put up series of pictures of Royce in life and will include that story as well as others.
;)
Margie chose this blanket to be his burial shroud, as she had often observed Kalib and Royce together on or near this blanket. Kalib would point to the different squares as Royce watched attentively. Now she wraps him in it.
;)
Muzzy and Royce were friends.
;)
Royce was Melanie's cat. She carries him to his grave.
;)
Before Royce goes into the earth, Lisa holds him and weeps. Then I take him and lower him into the hole, which is deeper than my arm is long.
;)
Melanie scoops up dirt to gently place directly atop him before the rest is shoveled in.
;)
Once Royce was in the earth and could not be seen, Kalib was allowed to come to the grave. He picked a wild rose and brought it to his good friend. Long time readers know of this amazing relationship shared between the baby and the cat, but, for those who don't, I will address it in tomorrow's post.
;)
Kalib placed several flowers and several rocks upon the grave. Lisa put the golf ball there.
There is so much more that I wanted to write in this post, as I placed the above pictures, but it is now 2:07 AM the next day, I have not even taken a nap and I need to drive into Anchorage early in the morning. I need to get some rest, sometime, so I will go to bed now, sleep a bit, take a quick look at this before I leave for Anchorage and then hit, "published."
So this is it. Never again will I pet this cat or hear him purr.
If I had known that, I would have picked him up repeatedly on Monday. He would have purred and purred and purred.
I just didn't know. I thought he was getting better.