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We didn't actually adopt Boney until we moved from the house I lived in when we got married. Boney is about the same age as Rusty. The woman that owned Boney had a drug addiction problem and was unable to care for her animals properly. Boney spent the majority of his time at my house which was fine because he and Rusty were best of friends.

Boney was really funny. When I was single, in my house without halls, I had a window air conditioner in my bedroom window. When the weather was really hot, I would shut the doors to the bedroom and turn on my little air conditioner and run a fan. The kitties' door was next to the air conditioner and Boney would come in and lay in front of the fan. He was the only cat that did this.

When we were packing to move, there was really no question about leaving Bones behind. He came with us gladly and his old owner never tried to contact me.

Boney is one of our few cats that actually knows what to do with prey. He brings it in to us, dead. When we first moved into our new home, we didn't have much furniture. One evening, I noticed Boney playing with a toy mouse in the dining room. It was an empty room at the time. He was having so much fun, I decided to play with him. I went to pick up the toy and throw it for him. Let me tell you, that was no toy mouse. It was a dead gopher. I could tell by those teeth. It was not a pretty site, but it was the first of many dead gophers to grace our home.

Since we have fixed the yard to keep the cats in, Boney pretty much sleeps most of the time. He will occasionally pick a fight with Rusty. He will tear through the house in a frenzy every once in a while. He is around 13 years old, having been born in early '83. He is very mouthy. He refuses to use the catdoor, instead standing inside or outside of the door he wants us to open, calling to us quite insistently. He only stops when he gets his way.

He is a good cat. I'm glad we stole him.

On Wednesday, February 5, 2003, Boney's breathing was labored. Concerned, I took him to the vet. The vet found fluid in the lungs and a possible heart problem. He said if Boney hadn't been so alert and in such seemingly good condition, he wouldn't advise aggressive treatment. I left Boney there and the vet drew the fluid from the lungs and took additional x-rays. Boney was diagnosed with hyperthyroid, which would be treatable with medication. I was to bring him back in the following Monday for a recheck. Over the weekend, his breathing got worse. When the vet saw him on Monday, he was very concerned. I left Boney there and the vet was going to draw the fluid off during his surgery time. At 12:30 the phone rang. Boney's heart stopped while being put under anesthesia. It just couldn't take the stress. And the vet said the fluid had changed from the previous week. The vet believed that Boney had chylothorax, which is treatable, but it's hard to treat. It was his belief that it was the best for Boney that he wouldn't have to go through with this.

The loss of Boney was a shock, but he was an old cat, by any standards (twenty years this year) and he did have bad arthritis and kidney problems. It was sad to see him go and it hurt to know that I hadn't said goodbye. I thought he'd come home that night. This was the last picture I got of him, the weekend before he left for the Bridge. He was ready to go, I can see that now. He'll be greatly missed.


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