The Season of Goodbyes

It is season of goodbyes these days with graduation, summer break and friends moving away for the summer. It is also the day we said a final goodbye to our beloved buff tabby Franklin. We knew this day would come, but as weeks went by and one year turned into two, it almost seemed as if the doctors were all wrong, that he wasn't really sick after all. He was our miracle kitty - far outliving and thriving despite a grim prognosis.

On Thursday Franklin stopped eating. He retreated to the far corners of the closets and shunned even the company of his best friend Peter. Baby food and tuna weren't enough to stimulate his appetite or bring him out of seclusion. Yesterday when he stopped taking water we knew for sure it was time to let him go and this morning at 10 am our beloved vet (Dr. Jeanne) came to the house to ease him into the next life. Dr. Jeanne only does house calls. She loves kitties and is the sweetest and kindest vet I've ever known.

As a young cat, Franklin (and his buddy - an orange kitty) had been rescued from the home of a person who appeared to take great pleasure in torturing animals. He and his orange pal were found doused in oil and both had suffered other obvious physical abuse. Because of this, the SPCA made a special stipulation that they be adopted together as a pair. They found a home quickly but sadly the woman who adopted them never cleared the addition of cats with her landlord so back they went. This time there was no stipulation on their adoption and the lively, outgoing orange kitty found a home right away. Poor shy, timid Franklin languished for many, many weeks however.

I met Franklin at an off-site adoption fair and it was love at first purr. When I picked him up he went in for the snuggle right away, pushing himself against me in a way that was so sweet and so trusting, and also so desperate. He was literally starved for affection. I might've officially rescued Franklin that day but in fact it was he who rescued me from the heartbreak of losing my 16 and 17 year old kitties less than a year before. In the ten years I had him he never lost that sweet sense of gratitude for food, a warm bed and his people who loved him so.

After about six months I got Franklin two 10 week old kittens to keep him company - Peter and Lillie. He fell naturally into being a "mom", allowing them to "nurse" on a little patch of fur on his chest, carting them from room to room and letting them sleep right on top of him. They were an inseparable trio. As the kittens grew up the bond between Franklin and Peter remained and grew stronger.

Occasionally Lillie would allow him a little snuggle.

He and Ken had a special bond as well.

Though I think he never quite forgave Ken for
getting that new sleek flat screen monitor...

Today Peter seems a little confused and is needing a lot of attention and snuggles. We'll have to keep a careful eye on him. When Franklin was first sick, Peter also became ill - the vet said it was stress. As for Ken and I, well we've rambled about the house aimlessly, unable to focus on much of anything. I've stopped crying for now. Our hearts are broken but we take comfort knowing our sweet boy isn't suffering any longer. We imagine Franklin is out there somewhere, getting to be the outside boy he always wished he was and eating all the catnip and big crunchies he wants without Peter getting there first.

Rest well my sweet boy.