Tre - 1996 - February 8th, 2011

It was early in 2003. I already had two cats and I didn't want another, but my friend was being deployed to Iraq and she didn't have anyone else who could take Tre. I grudgingly accepted and Tre came into my life. When my friend returned from Iraq, circumstances in her life prevented her from taking him back. I knew from the paperwork she had given me that Tre had come to live with her from another friend who had developed allergies. Before that, he had been in a shelter, presumably dropped off there by another family. Given that rough start, I decided that I was going to be the last home he ever had and make him mine for good.

Since he came into my life, Tre has been attached to me nearly every waking moment. He always wanted to be on my lap or on top of the bed beside me. Even in the Summer months when the rest of the kitties want to be as far away from my body heat as possible, Tre would climb into bed when I did, and lie there kneading the sheets while I stroked him. In 2008, my vet noticed that his pupils were fully dilated and did a full workup to discover what was wrong. It turned out that he had high blood pressure and the pressure had detached his retinas, making him nearly blind. Since then, he's been on arthritis and blood pressure medication. I put steps next to the bed so that he could climb up easily, and instead of jumping up on my lap, he would sit next to my chair and cry for me to pick him up.

Last night, Tre sat beside me on the couch and followed me to bed as usual. I petted him a little when he climbed up and then fell asleep quickly. This morning, when I woke up, I heard a strange clicking noise every few seconds. I thought it was one of the cats playing with something. When I looked over, I saw Tre lying on his side making the noises. He was nearly unresponsive to my touch, so I picked him up and put him in the carrier. He struggled a little when I put him in, so I hoped that was a good sign. Unfortunately, by the time I reached the vet, he had already passed. The vet attempted some compressions, but my little buddy was gone. She thinks it was either a massive stroke or a heart attack.

The vet tech made an imprint of his front paw in some soft clay which I can bake and keep as a permanent reminder. They put him in nice little box and when I get the chance, I'm going to take him and bury him in my parents' back yard. They buried their dog Toby there a few years ago, so I'm going to bury Tre beside him.

He was a feisty guy right up until the end. On Sunday night, he was wrestling with Tiny, who was his favorite partner to scrap with. It made for some great comedy when Tiny walked away, but Tre just kept swinging at the spot where she had been. Tiny still has a little cut on her cheek from a match not long ago. You will be missed, Tre. And not just by me. The other kitties will miss you as well.

This is one of the last photos I have of Tre. He's playing with a catnip banana I got him for Christmas.


This was his favorite place in the whole world. He would sit on my lap for hours if I would let him.


I put some of my favorite pictures of Tre in an album to remember him by.
http://s696.photobucket.com/albums/vv326/Grogs1234/Tre/

Thank you all for your kind words. Only time can heal the pain, but knowing that there are others out there who know what I am going through helps immensely. My neighbor/friend is a crazy cat person too, and we spent several hours sitting around today swapping stories about cats and other things and it really made me feel better. My car just started having problems yesterday, so I had to go to the mechanic and have it worked on today or risk being stranded on the side of the road on my way to work. That turned out to be very cathartic, as I ended up spending the two hours at the mechanic swapping stories about the weather and various automotive problems from the past with a couple of nice men in the waiting room and that took my mind off of Tre.

When I called my parents to tell them the news about Tre, they were very understanding. They were both very deeply effected by the loss of their sweet dog Toby, so they knew what I was feeling. They suggested that I bury Tre along their back fence beside Toby's grave before I even had a chance to suggest it. When I got to the house, my dad told me where the shovels were, and suggested where I should dig the grave, but he said the memory of his own trip to the backyard with a shovel was still too fresh, so he couldn't help. That was quite OK really, because this was something I wanted to take my time with so that I could say my last goodbyes to my little buddy Tre.

The forces of nature really came together to make today perfect for a burial here in East Tennessee. We had a bit of rain and snow flurries last night and the temperature was in the 50's, so digging the hole was (relatively) easy. When I opened the box to gaze upon Tre's sweet face one last time, the rays of late afternoon sunlight played upon his sweet face. I had been worried earlier in the day because Tre died with his eyes open. I thought about it, but not until several hours after I brought him home and I figured it was too late to do anything at that point. Thankfully, the vet tech had curled him up just like he was sleeping and closed his eyes when she put him in the box.

I like to think that he felt the sunlight, one last time, upon his whiskers before I put him in the earth. I put his favorite toy - a stuffed seal - in the box with him. I placed it under his front paw, just like he would have cuddled with it in life. I also put all of his old collars and name tags and rabies tags in the box with him. I had no idea why I was saving those, but it makes sense now. It tickles me to think that maybe, just maybe, a few hundred years from now some future archaeologist will dig up the site and deduce that we were a civilization that revered our pets. Hopefully, they will judge us favorably. I also buried his food bowl with him. I don't think it meant that much to him, but I couldn't bear the thought of having his empty bowl staring at me every night while I fed the other three cats. While I was out digging Tre's grave, my mother came out and told me that she had ordered a marker for his grave. I was thinking of doing that anyway, but knowing that she cared enough really made me feel loved.

My lap has hardly been empty at all this evening since I got home. Thufir has been up on my lap rolling over and putting his paws in my face. Promise has jumped up several times, kneading until she gets comfortable and then settling down, Even Tiny, typically the aloof one, has gotten up into my lap. Partly, I think that they miss Tre, but I think they can also sense my sadness and they're trying to help. It's working.

I have one last hurdle to overcome. I put Tre in the carrier when I hauled off to the vet this morning. That carrier is still sitting, empty now, in the back seat of my car. I'm not sure when I'll build up the courage to bring it back in. The cats have all had enough trips to the vet in the carrier that they know what it means. I took Tre out in it this morning and, eventually, I'm going to have to bring it back into the house empty. I'm just hoping that they won't think that I took Tre away somewhere in the carrier and that it's my fault that he's not coming back.

Thanks. The words really flow when I'm feeling emotional, and I was certainly feeling emotional when I wrote that.

Most of the raw pain has faded now, for me and for the other kitties. On Friday, I pulled out the wand toy that normally drives Promise into a fit, but she didn't want to play with it. I tried again Sunday night and she started chasing it around. Tonight, all three kitties wanted to play with it. Tiny even chased it around, which is something that she never does.

I finally pulled the carrier out of my car without too much fuss. I put the towel that was in it on the floor and the kitties took turns sleeping on it. I washed the towel this weekend along with the heated cat bed that I put up on the window sill for those times he climbed up there, but couldn't get down. It's sad for me to think that his scent is fading from my apartment. I'll probably wash the sheets this weekend and I bet I'll find a good deal of orange cat hair in the lint filter when I do. I glazed his little paw print and it's sitting on my desk now. I may have it put in a frame along with a picture of him and hang it on the wall eventually.