It’s funny how fast time flies. Children (not to mention grandchildren) and pets only make it seem that much more so. It feels as if it were only last week/month/year when Bo entered our lives. And he’s left us too soon.
His history was unknown – he was rescued from the street (literally). He was found emaciated and deathly ill, yet Almost Home Foundation took him in. Our team of volunteers fed, cleaned, medicated, and encouraged him. Kathi, in particular, devoted extra hours of her precious time tending to him. She named him Bolero, or Bo for short.
It wasn’t long before he was gaining weight, energy, and a desire to join the rest of the fosters in his home there. He was fully restored to mighty Bo. He began howling. Little did we know that would be his signature mode of communication. Not meowing, mind you – a full-bellied howl. Bo knew how to get your attention!
He hated adoption shows, hated car rides, hated uncertainty. He didn’t particularly care for other cats, or for any other animals for that matter. He howled during car rides, howled at adoption events, and only showed an interest in potential adopters if they were men. Bo was truly a dude’s dude.
Once those men began expounding on why they couldn’t take him home (wife/child with allergies, or the generic “My wife would kill me”) – Bo would snort and retreat to the back of his crate. He was very clear on his preferences, including the feline version of junk food, and even clearer on what he disdained.
But he loved Kenny. True to his purrsonality, Bo got what Bo wanted. It just so happened that my son Kenny had fallen under Bo’s spell. And so, with no reasonable hope of decent behavior at adoption events, they were each other’s Christmas gift. I’m not sure which one was happier.
Over the years he generally followed his own path, not paying much attention to the other animals in the household. He relished his favorites – bird-watching, snoozing on the best furniture, soaking up the warm sunspots, hunting spiders, drinking from the toilet, eating treats and bonita flakes. And always, always spending time and cuddles with his Kenny.
They are now separated. Bo is surely in a better place, full of all the treats his heart desires. Kenny is comforted by the knowledge that his beloved Bo is no longer suffering, free to roll in piles of catnip. But it’s a sad day for our family. Bo was not just a cat. Bo was larger than life. We will all miss him.
Bo, we love you, always.
Your Kenny and The Tees
*Edited to omit an ambiguous line, to clarify his illness was recent – a cancer that is too common in cats unfortunately – and to correct the spelling of Kathi’s name. (How did I forget that?!)