River: RIP Bronx: 2017--2026
2026-08-14 05:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mdlbearOn Thursday, August 6th (yesterday, as I write this), I held our dear pocket panther Bronx in my arms for the last time as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge, after a fierce battle with an illness that started as an ear infection and ended up as meningitis and encephalitis.
The first time I noticed that there was a problem was Tuesday July 21st; he had hidden under the bed instead of spending at least part of the night with me; the next morning he had trouble walking -- his hind legs kept going out from under him. He also had a runny nose; we thought maybe that was affecting his balance. We called AniCura Haaglanden in Rijswijk and got him an appointment for 4pm.
As we were getting ready to leave, he flew into a rage when the vet tried to give him one more shot (for nausea). I'd never seen him that angry. He had another appointment the following Friday, for an MRI and more bloodwork; we came home with an antibiotic -- he was going to need it for another six weeks -- and an appointment for the following Thursday.
He seemed almost himself Monday morning, but sometime in the afternoon he went into his carrier, which has been his safe place for the last few years, and turned away from food, even tube snack (laced with antibiotic) on my finger. I left a bowl in front of him, but it was untouched in the morning. They admitted him, and he was not happy about it. When we went in to visit him he bared his teeth and snarled.
Wednesday during visiting hours, he did the same, but seemed to calm down a little when I sang to him. Thursday he just lay there in his kennel and let us pet him. He hadn't eaten since Monday. They asked if we wanted to have them in a feeding tube, through a hole in his neck, but that would have meant more suffering, more rage, ... and he would have to come in for another surgery to drain his ear, and still might not make it that far. We couldn't put him through that.
A little while after we bought our house on Whidbey Island, N and I went to the local shelter in search of a cat. Usually we would go into a room with a few cats, and wait to see if one wanted us. This time was different, because there in a large cage were two recently-arrived kittens curled up together. One was black, and the other one was a tuxedo. We were told that they were three and two months old respectively; the older one was called Bronx, and the younger one was called Happy. N and I looked at each other and N, a former New Yorker, said "We'll have to change Happy's name to Brooklyn, you know." And that was that.
When we brought him home Bronx had a bit of a cold, which soon got worse instead of better. His stay in the animal hospital, just as he was starting to bond with us, gave him a lasting fear of being abandoned.
He was always an "up" cat, seeking out the highest places to hang out. On top of my wardrobe was one of his favorites. He didn't use the top of the cat tree as much, possibly because Ticia had beaten him to it the day it was installed. (The wardrobe required two leaps of about a meter; Ticia couldn't manage that, but she could still climb.) He would also nip occasionally, and was sometimes careless with his claws, but he was also cuddly and would let me carry him and sometimes sit on my lap. Not when I was trying to type something, though.
He and Ticia usually slept on my bed; after she passed there was no-one to chase him away from the coveted spot next to my face.
As the sedative started taking effect we slid him out on the towel he was
curled up on; I gathered him into my arms and N and I stroked him and said
our last farewells. All the fear and fury was gone, all the pain and
confusion, leaving nothing but love to carry with him on his final
journey. I think -- hope -- the last thing he heard me say was Ï will
always love you.
He finds himself curled up on a bed of grass - something he hasn't felt since he was a kitten. He can't feel the needle that was attached to his leg a moment ago. He stands up, takes a few steps, and shakes his head experiimentally. His legs work. His balance is back. He can LEAP! onto the bridge, because way up high he can sense rather than hear Colleen calling him, and Ticia meowing for him. And UP is his favorite direction.
Links:
- More details in the notes on last Sunday's post, as things happened.
- The Rainbow Bridge
- Bronx's page
- (Photos: moved to the web page; will be available next week)
- AniCura Haaglanden in Rijswijk
- Dierencrematorium Haaglanden/
no subject
Date: 2026-08-14 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-08-14 07:05 pm (UTC)hugs Thanks!
I'm sorry
Date: 2026-08-14 04:15 pm (UTC)Re: I'm sorry
Date: 2026-08-16 05:06 pm (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2026-08-14 11:56 pm (UTC){Hugs}
It's always hard. You gave him a lifetime of love and did the hard but necessary thing for him.
no subject
Date: 2026-08-16 05:09 pm (UTC)Thanks! Kindness isn't always easy.
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Date: 2026-08-15 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-08-16 05:11 pm (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2026-08-15 01:30 am (UTC)Icon used because the Labrador depicted was unfailingly respectful, if gently curious, about kitties, while the torbie in my kitty icon was not always a fan of other cats.
no subject
Date: 2026-08-16 05:13 pm (UTC)Hugs gratefully accepted.
no subject
Date: 2026-08-15 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-08-16 07:16 pm (UTC)Thanks! What a marvelous name for a cat!
no subject
Date: 2026-08-15 07:58 am (UTC)Darned onion ninjas are back.
no subject
Date: 2026-08-16 07:17 pm (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2026-08-15 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-08-16 06:59 am (UTC)Yours was damned good -- I'd have linked to it if it hadn't been locked.
Feel free to snag the icon. It's quintessential Bronx.