Smokey James 2/1/03 - 8/23/13

February 1st 2003. That was the day that my life would forever change for the better. A cat that we had taken in was going to give birth to five kittens, two of which would be my whole world. A girl: Weineken and a boy: Smokey. With all due respect to Weineken, this piece is about Smokey, but know that she means every bit as much to me as he does. Smokey and I formed a special bond. My Wife has often said that we share a bond that she's never seen before between a human and a cat. At an early age (I'm not sure exactly, but he wasn't even three months old yet) he would snuggle up against my chest and sleep next to me every night. At a young age, Smokey discovered the tasty goodness of cheese crackers and potato chips. Cheese crackers and potato chips remained a staple of his life until last week.

My Mom wanted me to go on vacation with her and my big sister Amy. There was no way I was going anywhere without Smokey. So my Mom, Amy, Smokey and I crammed into a tiny car that was packed to the brim with things we thought we needed for our trip. It was an especially fun (sarcasm) fourteen hour drive down to Texas. Smokey had decided to hide under the passenger side seat for most of the trip. When we got where we needed to be, I discovered Smokey had slept on an open bag of gummy worms, which were now melted to his fur. First order of business in Texas: give Smokey a bath! He was there for me through four moves, including the purchase of my first home. He was there when I met Kathlyn and got married to her. He waited patiently for me to get home from long shifts at work and long nights with friends, just so we could pal around. He comforted me when my Grandparents and my best friend died. Throughout everything in the last decade, he's been the one constant source of positivity in my life.

On August 10th of this year, we took Smokey in to see the Vet, he had stopped eating and was drinking a lot. After running some tests the Vet told us his kidney (yes, singular) was failing, his numbers were far too high, he was going to die that day. I was devastated, my buddy was fine a few days ago, now he's going to die? Just like that? No. I wasn't having any of it, and neither was Smokey. The Vet suggested he go to the E.R., so that's exactly what we did. Kathlyn (without her, Smokey and I wouldn't have made it this far) and I met the E.R. Vet who told us that a cat Smokey's age should have a number of around 2.4 in regards to his kidney... his was around 16. He should be dead, yet, here he was.

The E.R. Vet kept him over the weekend and on Monday August 12th, which just happened to be my birthday, Smokey returned to his normal Vet where he would spend the day finishing up his treatment. In the late afternoon, the Vet called. Smokey wasn't doing very well, we had to come put him down, there was nothing left to do. My Mom and Drew (my bestest buddy since forever) came over and took Kathlyn and I to see Smokey. Once we got there they brought him into the room with us and he perked up and started purring and acting like I haven't seen him in a while! The Vet was dumbfounded, his numbers indicate that he should be dead. Clearly, he wasn't. Smokey came home that night and that's the greatest birthday present I ever got, a happy Smokey!

His condition started to get better, so hopes were high that he would make it after all. Smokey is a completely bad-ass and tough cat, much more bad-ass or tough than myself or ANYONE reading this. He went his whole life with one functioning kidney and gave death the middle finger more times than I can count. However, after a few days he got sick... real sick. A visit with the Vet and again she said "his numbers indicate he should be dead. I'm completely surprised that he's still here. But, he's not going to get better, his body is shutting down." One last time, Smokey looked death in the eye and spat in his face! He triumphantly came home once again.

Now however, the truth was setting in. He's not going to get better and he's too damn stubborn to let go. I spent the last few days, cuddling him, sitting outside with him on the porch, letting him get some sun. I knew, whether I wanted to admit it or not what was coming. Finally, enough was enough. He was in rough shape and Kathlyn and I had to do what was best for him (thank you Wifey for getting me through this). Last night he cuddled with me all night (something he hasn't done since he got real sick) and purred up a storm (he hasn't purred since last Saturday). I read to him a line from a fabled book I adore "Let go. Fly. Second star to the right -- and straight on till morning." He purred as best he could, accepting my instructions. "That's what I want you to do, Smokey. Let go. Fly. Second star to the right -- and straight on till morning." He gave me a "kiss" by licking my nose and gave me the patented "Smokey wink". This last week and half has been a gift, a chance to come to grips with what was happening and say goodbye. and it's been eerily similar to a favorite book of mine.

If you see me in the near future, and I don't seem right or if I come off as rude... please, bear with me... my Son just died.





Kathlyn's blog can be viewed here.

Smokey.

Today, my Wife and I took my kitty Smokey in to the Vet. We thought he might be having some tooth problems. His biological sister Kendall had tooth issues and after removing several of her teeth, she was fine. For Smokey, it was worse. It appears as though his kidneys are failing. Whether or not his condition is treatable, we won't know until Monday. My Wife has said that the bond I share with Smokey is like that of a father and son. She's right. He is way past being a pet that I own, he is very much so like a son to me.

His Mother was a stray cat that my family took in, and she gave birth to Smokey, Kendall and three other kittens on February 1st 2003. Smokey and Kendall have been a part of my family literally since the day they were born. They both have special bonds with me, but this post is about Smokey, so I will focus on him. We've been through a lot together. Lots of heartache and triumphs. He was there for me when my best friend died, he was there when I got married and he was there when I bought my first house. Those are just to name a few occasions.

I am hurting so badly right now, knowing that our time together may be cut short. Smokey is a tough old kitty, and he will fight with all he's got. I love him dearly, and I'll never give up on him. Hopefully he will be coming home on Monday, which happens to be my birthday. If he comes home Monday, it'll be the greatest birthday present I could ever get!

Get well soon, Smokey!