All I wanted was a pair of shoes. So I went and got some. Then for reasons I still don't understand, or really care to understand, I wandered from the shoe store over to the PetSmart.
And there he was in the adoption center...a face peering out from the inside of a little kitty condo inside an adoption cage. The most amazing green eyes that followed me when I went to look at the other kitties there. Those eyes kept drawing me back to his cage. He never moved...just the eyes. I read his name, Mr Tucker, and his data. He was 4 and his family had to reluctantly give him up because their son developed an allergy.
He looked pathetic stuffed into that tiny condo.
And I wanted to take him home. So I did on 17 December 2001.
I never regretted that decision. He was my sweet little punk.
He had a great life, and my life was better for having him in it. Last summer when his cardiac disease was first diagnosed, the doc thought maybe it could be controlled with medication. But it turned out that there were more things wrong. The combination of medications put too much strain on his kidneys. And it didn't really keep the fluid from building in his chest, which constricted his heart and made his breathing so difficult.
But it got him through the holidays, and that was important to me. Every day after that was gravy. A couple of weeks ago he had what the doc thinks was a stroke, and I thought that was going to be the end.
But he rallied and we got a little more time. Then we had a great weekend. He was almost his old self on Saturday. That's what we'll remember.
Monday he quit eating. Tuesday he refused his medicine and we stopped bothering him with it. Tuesday evening, his breathing started to get really rough. We almost took him to the doc, but he settled down.
Then yesterday morning, he just wasn't right. Pam stayed home from work. I couldn't because I've got today and tomorrow off for a long weekend. Pam called me throughout the day with updates.
Mr Tucker was getting confused. He was having trouble getting comfortable. His breathing was really labored. I called SVS from work and told them he was failing. And when I got home, he looked at me and I knew.
It was time.
I choose to believe that he understood me when I told him the things I wanted to tell him. I told him I was sorry it was so scary. I asked him to forgive me for being a coward because I couldn't hold him until he left for the Bridge. I'm sure he knew I wanted to, but I didn't want to remember that part.
I thanked him for loving Pam as much as I do.
We had one last snuggy Tuesday night. Now he's gone to the Bridge where he can breathe with ease, and run, and settle down in a special patch of sunlight.
I loved that little spook. I'm going to miss him.
He left me his woobie. He's in my heart forever.
Mr Tucker
July 1997 - March 2011
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