The Howard Post I Never Wanted to Write

We knew for a while that it was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier.  We had to make the unbearable decision to say goodbye to Howard on November 1^st. 

His health had been declining since December of last year, and we said from the beginning that we’d do everything possible as long as Howard seemed happy and like he had a good life. 

He was wobbly on his feet and lost a lot of weight, but seemed happy and not like he was in pain.  Then, he just started to seem like he was never comfortable, and he cried and meowed in a new and different way. 

We took him to the vet, and Dr. D said that even with heroic measures, we wouldn’t buy him much time, and that it wouldn’t be quality time.  She was concerned that if we tried to do anything to prolong his life, Howard would die alone in the hospital.  The one thing Howard hated was being alone, so we knew we were never going to do that to him.  We made the decision to let him go.

Howard drifted off to sleep with Dr. D and the vet tech telling him that he had always been everyone’s favorite and with me and Nick petting him and telling him how much we loved him.  We fed him a chicken churu treat and part of a tuna churu treat right before.  He was purring, and he was loved.  I just hope he knew how much.  Our hearts are broken, but Howard isn’t in pain.

It's hard to capture everything that Howard was in a blog post.  He wasn’t at all what I was looking for when I went to the animal shelter, but he was exactly what I needed.  I went with the intention of adopting a dignified middle-aged cat to be a friend for my dignified middle-aged cat, Edison.  Howard was so many things, but dignified was never one of them.  And he was six months old when I adopted him, so he wasn’t the middle-aged cat I intended to get.  But, when he bounced to the front of the cage as if to say, “Hi, I’m your new best friend,” I knew he was mine. 

Howard’s first year was quite an adventure.  He nearly died from an upper respiratory infection, he ate an earring that had to be surgically removed, ended up in the cone of shame after the earring surgery, experienced an apartment fire, and moved three times, including the move to NC after we met Nick.  Howard wasn’t phased or upset by any of it.

Howard adored his siblings and was always the first pet to welcome any new foster pets or newly adopted pets.  It didn’t matter if they were dogs or cats, young or old, healthy or sick.  Howard loved them all, and cuddled with everyone.  His ashes are next to Duke’s because he loved Duke so much.

Howard loved people as much as he loved other animals.  He greeted everyone who ever came to the house and loved being brushed and petted.  Everyone loved Howard.  Even people who don’t like cats loved Howard.  People would always ask to take pictures of Howard; people here to trick or treat, delivery drivers, repair people.  There are lots of Howard being a meerkat pictures out in the world.  One of the neighbor kids brought his girlfriend to meet Howard because he was the “coolest cat.”  Howard loved people and loved posing for pictures.

It's so weird not having Howard in the house.  You’d think with five other cats, it wouldn’t seem empty, but it does.  I think, of all the other cats, Frankie misses him the most.  They were good friends and liked to cuddle together.  

He was a constant presence in my life for almost 17 years and a constant presence in Nick’s life for almost 16 years.  It’s still weird not having him.  Christmas looks different this year, too.  As you know, I’ve always loved the song, “I Want A Hippopotamus for Christmas.”  We changed it to Howardpotamus and would sing it to him.  The song makes me cry now, instead of smile.  All of the hippopotamus ornaments are packed away because I can’t look at them without crying.  Maybe next year, they’ll make me smile again. 

I know that everyone says the best way to honor a cat you’ve loved and lost is to adopt another cat, but we’re not planning to adopt anyone for now.  We still have five cats, and we actually never intended to have six.  Remember, Charlie and Mortimer arrived as short-term fosters. 

We’re also dealing with some health problems with Frankie.  I’ll post more about that later, but we need to be able to focus on him, not on bringing another cat in the house. 

I have no doubt that we’ll end up with another cat eventually.  We’re always going to have cats, and they have a habit of just coming into our lives (we weren’t looking for Carloine when she arrived in our lives), but now isn’t the right time. 

For now, we’re giving Frankie the extra care he needs and giving all five of the cats extra love and cuddles.  A purring cat is good for the heart and soul.