Jet died in my yard this afternoon

I actually wasn't going to post here anymore, but after what happened today I find myself drawn back.

About three years ago, an unfixed male feral started showing up in my yard to partake of the kitty buffet that was out for my strays. (One of them - Little One - I saved from a coyote attack a few months ago and now she lives inside) I named this boy Jet. He lived rough. He wouldn't stick around all the time like the other two strays. He'd come to eat, rest up, then go off on his adventures and come back battered, bruised and bloody. I was never able to really help him because he never trusted me like the others. I was never able to touch him and he always hissed at me when I brought his food. Even so, he was a sweet boy and I was glad to give him a harbor in the storm of his life.

Yesterday he showed up for food and he was okay. Today he was not. I'm thinking there was some traumatic injury because his affect was a lot like Little One's after the coyote attack. Though there was no blood of visible signs of an attack of any sort, he was breathing hard and rapidly like she was, wouldn't eat. I kept going out to check on him and quickly realized he wasn't going to get better. I called the Animal Shelter to come out and get him, then went outside to check on him. He didn't look good. I talked to him a bit, went back inside. Five minutes later I came back out. He had made his way out from underneath the bushes and died under a tree - where he knew I'd find him.

I marvel that despite whatever he went through in the last 24 hours, he managed to make his way to the place he called home and felt safe to die. I wish I could have done more for him, but hope he's finally found some peace. Underneath his gruff exterior, he was a good little guy and I'm going to miss him.

Rest in peace, Jet. Look for Serena and Mangy when you cross the bridge.

Thank you for your kind words of support. They're much needed and appreciated right now - as I think about Jet and what I did right/what I did wrong/what I could have done better/what the limitations on the relationship were. All the other strays who've staked a claim here have opened up to me and accepted my touch and become my friends. Jet was never able to go there. So I did what I could to make his journey a little easier and I guess that's all I could do. Though I wish I could have done more. At least he didn't die anonymously where no one knew or cared about him. I cried for the loss of his life. I'm still crying.

Thanks again, you guys. I can't tell you how much your words have helped as I struggle through. You know how it is. I've been reliving every moment of yesterday, thinking it through. Was there something I could have done differently to effect a different outcome? If I'd called the shelter sooner, would that have made a difference? The answer is no. Jet was dying. He chose to come home to do that. If the shelter had gotten here, the last thing he would have experienced was strangers touching him and taking him away. Jet wouldn't have wanted to go out like that. And like I said - he had it rough out there. My neighbor said she was astounded that he'd survived as long as he had. So I'm trying to take comfort in all that. But I still find myself welling up at the thought of him. Automatically looking out to see if he's shown up wanting to be fed. Realizing he'll never come again. It's a process.

This meant everything to me. Thank you.

Thanks for your thoughts and wishes/vibes for Jet. It was a pretty rough first week. You know how it is - instinctively looking for him to see if he was waiting to be fed, reliving everything that happened the day he died. I'm coming to terms with his loss. It helps knowing he went out on his own terms in a place he felt safe and the last thing he heard was a human voice that cared about him. Miss you, Jet.