Meet Onyx - Destroyer of the Backyard
I named him Onyx after the black quartz stone which its etymology stems from the Greek word for 'claw.' He is what I believe to be a British Bombay cat from the internet research I did. He is extremely muscular, has a sleek entirely black coat, black pads on his paws, elliptical yellow eyes, with a very long torso.
He possesses quite the personality. We often find him sleeping on top of the grill in 100F+ degree weather, under the Christmas tree in the winter, on the back of chairs, the railing of the deck (which is about a 20 foot drop to the ground), or on the concrete floor in the basement. Along with his strange sleep habits, he is a very avid hunter and has caught everything you would expect to find in my backyard: birds, mice, squirrels, snakes, and even a bat (we still have yet to figure this one out, he is de-clawed). He knows when to back down from a fight though as I saw him running full speed from a fox one night. Frequently, as if providing us with some sort of gift, he would eat his catch right outside the sliding glass door so we could eat dinner with him, or so I like to think.
Despite his aggressive nature to the outside world, he was extremely affectionate and loving. From what I read, Bombay cats tend to have a particular person they are attached to, and I know that person was me. Everyday coming home from class or work, he would be either waiting on the deck railing or right inside the sliding door. As soon as he sees me he'll run up to me and meow to be picked up and pet. Without fail, I oblige and pet him until I have no more time. Often times when I'm walking away from him after being pet, he'll run after me and attach himself to my leg and give me a little nip just to show that he's not done being loved yet. It doesn't hurt, just merely a sign of affection.
Rewind to about 3 weeks ago when I was in the midst of preparing for final exams. It was a Monday, and I didn't have class until 7:10PM that night. That morning I woke up to the sounds of Onyx's distress meow, which happens quite frequently when he gets stuck in the basement. I get up and open the basement door but he is not there. I check the rest of the house and can't find him so I shrug it off and go back to bed thinking I'll see him later in the day.
I woke up a few hours later and didn't hear a peep from any of the cats. Still no sign of Onyx, but I didn't think much of it. I had been home all day studying for my finals when I decided to go downstairs to play drums for a while. After I was done drumming, I came back upstairs and decided to check for him one more time. I quickly realized that I had not checked the laundry room which is also one of his favorite spots to sleep.
Making my way in to the laundry room, I figured he must be stuck behind the dryer or washer so I'll check there first. As I was leaning back behind the washer to take a peek, I saw a large black furry mass on the dryer which was, of course, Onyx. Immediately, I knew something was wrong. He would've responded by now but he remained motionless. I placed my hand on his body and realized it was completely stiff and lifeless. I was crushed...
It was hard to take a closer look at him because of the shock of finding a completely healthy cat dead as a doornail on top of the dryer. His nose was dripping with some sort of mucous, his eyes closed, and his jaw was clenched down on a towel that he was lying on top of. There was no apparent damage to his body; no fur missing, no blood, no broken bones.
I wrapped him up in a towel and buried him in the backyard, where he loved to be. He is forever remember by a make-shift tombstone complete with a picture of him.
It is still hard to think about the fact that I was the only one home all day and I wasn't there to save him. If I had the chance to save his life, I would've done everything in my power to do so. He truly was a good friend to me (as much of a friend as a cat can be) and I loved him. He lived the greatest life a cat could possibly be offered yet he died at the young age of 9.
Sorry for the long-winded story. It was just nice to get that all out. The main reason I am here on these forums is to ask for your advice:
How did Onyx die?
I have been speculating for the past few weeks and all I can imagine is that he ate the wrong mouse or bird or he was bitten by a poisonous snake. He was extremely healthy and never showed any signs of disease or sickness. It was pretty clear that he did not bleed to death or die from any other external injury. The cause of death must've been internal.
Any thoughts or suggestions?
Thank you in advance
-Steve
I named him Onyx after the black quartz stone which its etymology stems from the Greek word for 'claw.' He is what I believe to be a British Bombay cat from the internet research I did. He is extremely muscular, has a sleek entirely black coat, black pads on his paws, elliptical yellow eyes, with a very long torso.
He possesses quite the personality. We often find him sleeping on top of the grill in 100F+ degree weather, under the Christmas tree in the winter, on the back of chairs, the railing of the deck (which is about a 20 foot drop to the ground), or on the concrete floor in the basement. Along with his strange sleep habits, he is a very avid hunter and has caught everything you would expect to find in my backyard: birds, mice, squirrels, snakes, and even a bat (we still have yet to figure this one out, he is de-clawed). He knows when to back down from a fight though as I saw him running full speed from a fox one night. Frequently, as if providing us with some sort of gift, he would eat his catch right outside the sliding glass door so we could eat dinner with him, or so I like to think.
Despite his aggressive nature to the outside world, he was extremely affectionate and loving. From what I read, Bombay cats tend to have a particular person they are attached to, and I know that person was me. Everyday coming home from class or work, he would be either waiting on the deck railing or right inside the sliding door. As soon as he sees me he'll run up to me and meow to be picked up and pet. Without fail, I oblige and pet him until I have no more time. Often times when I'm walking away from him after being pet, he'll run after me and attach himself to my leg and give me a little nip just to show that he's not done being loved yet. It doesn't hurt, just merely a sign of affection.
Rewind to about 3 weeks ago when I was in the midst of preparing for final exams. It was a Monday, and I didn't have class until 7:10PM that night. That morning I woke up to the sounds of Onyx's distress meow, which happens quite frequently when he gets stuck in the basement. I get up and open the basement door but he is not there. I check the rest of the house and can't find him so I shrug it off and go back to bed thinking I'll see him later in the day.
I woke up a few hours later and didn't hear a peep from any of the cats. Still no sign of Onyx, but I didn't think much of it. I had been home all day studying for my finals when I decided to go downstairs to play drums for a while. After I was done drumming, I came back upstairs and decided to check for him one more time. I quickly realized that I had not checked the laundry room which is also one of his favorite spots to sleep.
Making my way in to the laundry room, I figured he must be stuck behind the dryer or washer so I'll check there first. As I was leaning back behind the washer to take a peek, I saw a large black furry mass on the dryer which was, of course, Onyx. Immediately, I knew something was wrong. He would've responded by now but he remained motionless. I placed my hand on his body and realized it was completely stiff and lifeless. I was crushed...
It was hard to take a closer look at him because of the shock of finding a completely healthy cat dead as a doornail on top of the dryer. His nose was dripping with some sort of mucous, his eyes closed, and his jaw was clenched down on a towel that he was lying on top of. There was no apparent damage to his body; no fur missing, no blood, no broken bones.
I wrapped him up in a towel and buried him in the backyard, where he loved to be. He is forever remember by a make-shift tombstone complete with a picture of him.
It is still hard to think about the fact that I was the only one home all day and I wasn't there to save him. If I had the chance to save his life, I would've done everything in my power to do so. He truly was a good friend to me (as much of a friend as a cat can be) and I loved him. He lived the greatest life a cat could possibly be offered yet he died at the young age of 9.
Sorry for the long-winded story. It was just nice to get that all out. The main reason I am here on these forums is to ask for your advice:
How did Onyx die?
I have been speculating for the past few weeks and all I can imagine is that he ate the wrong mouse or bird or he was bitten by a poisonous snake. He was extremely healthy and never showed any signs of disease or sickness. It was pretty clear that he did not bleed to death or die from any other external injury. The cause of death must've been internal.
Any thoughts or suggestions?
Thank you in advance
-Steve
