In memory of the feral ones

A love letter to Ramses, our feral friend.

Last night, we made one of the hardest decisions that pet owners have to make. We helped Ramses get his much needed rest.

We spent seven months learning how to say goodbye to him, and it wasn't enough. It'll never be enough.

We spent time in anger, because no cat should be shot, kicked, and whatever else happened to him before we brought him inside.

We spent time in love. We had two years and seven months getting to know him as an inside cat. These pictures are a lot of firsts: first time, on the bed or couch; first time cuddling; first time feeling safe.

He never meowed at us, but he always let us know what he wanted. He was first to breakfast until the last few days. He would stare at you until you figured out what he wanted. For a dying cat, he was surprisingly fast at slipping out the door when he wanted to hang out in the garage or in the (supervised) backyard.

Before he came inside, if I slept in, he was INCHES from the front door, waiting for his daily tithe of wet food. It took us three years to earn enough trust to TNR him. Another year before we had to bring him inside.

He blossomed indoors and got to live the life that all cats deserve. He had lasers and wet food and feathers and sunshine and heating pads. He got to stalk bugs and leaves outside and through it all, he let us know how much he appreciated it.

Hug your pets for this grumpy old tomcat and his two broken hearted humans.