"A shudder grips me, tear on tear falls burning,
Soft grows my heart, once so severe and brave;
What I possess, seems far away to me,
And what is gone becomes reality."
-- Goethe, Faust (Dedication)

February was Bob's last good month. From time to time in March, I sensed something was wrong, but nothing I could explain to a vet.

In early April, Bob had little appetite and labored breathing -- just as I did, so I figured the likely cause was springtime allergens. (We were allergic to the same things.)

Still, on Tuesday the 11th, I took Bob to the vet, who thought it might also be asthma -- or something more. A shot of cortisone helped.

The next week, on the morning of Wednesday the 19th, Bob was breathing through his mouth. He had woken me up 3 times during the night, but I hadn't understood why -- he didn't want out or food; now I know Bob was saying "help".

I took him to the vet, who saw fluid in Bob's chest and referred us to a specialist. The specialist took us that afternoon, drained the fluid from Bob's chest, and began treating him for heart disease.

When I visited Bob on Thursday, he was purring big purrs -- so happy to be breathing easily again. The specialist told me there were signs of heart disease but not cancer in Bob's ultrasound. Bob's condition was looking treatable.

On Friday, the analysis of Bob's chest fluid indicated a malignant tumor somewhere in his chest. The specialist described the option of chemotherapy when I picked up Bob.

Bob was very tired Friday afternoon, but he was purring and breathing well. Saturday morning I watched him dream.

Bob went outside in the afternoon, and on Sunday too, and slept under a bush for several hours. Other than that, we spent the weekend together. Sunday evening I showed him all the places he liked to play. He purred with memories.

4/24/2000: Monday morning, Bob was still breathing easily and dreaming -- and still only taking water (and growing tired of it). He was becoming uncomfortable after noon: dying but not yielding.

One more marathon belly-and-chest rub; one more look around outside; one last trip to the vet; and Bob went out the way he lived -- on top.

I placed Bob's ashes under the bush along with his favorite shirt.

Bob and I met in August 1988. Soon thereafter, he decided I was his mother. I thank him for 12 sweet years.

Bob's early years -- Bob's rise

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Last modified: 4/27/2000