March 8th
It's Monday night when I started writing this. It's a document of the emotions I'm going through this week. Something to preserve the human to pet relationship. I'm not going to look back on the previous days, just to try and preserve the uncut emotions and human psyche as they happen. I don't know why I want to do this, but it feels like something I need to do.
This black cloud is hanging over my head.
He's lost 2 lbs. His liver numbers are off. The vet says it may be cancer in his intestine or stomach. Maybe it's liver disease. Maybe it's nothing. But the prospect that my guy might not be here is tearing me to pieces. I wish I just knew one way or another, so I could either sigh in relief or start the grieving process.
But right now, I have my best friend of 13 years, laying in my lap between me and the computer as he always does, while I type just some memories that are coming to mind.
The funny thing is, this used to annoy the living hell out of me, He would position himself to get petted while I typed. Right now, I love it.
I'd love to tell you these stories in person, but I'm too busy ugly crying and only getting every third word out when I think about a world without Slider.
I was never a cat person. Most of the cats I had come into contact with growing up were either skittish and would run away (Newbie) or standoffish (Crash) and would hiss and scratch.
We originally got Slider in Myrtle Beach on February 4, 2008. Sallie and I had adult jobs and were leaving crash for long periods of time. And for some reason, we thought Crash needed/wanted a friend. We went to the shelter in Myrtle Beach to look at cats. I actually wanted this female tabby cat at the Humane Society, Sal was the one that talked me into Slider.
Slider was incredibly skittish at first. He hid under our couch for the first two days we had him. Finally, irritated that we may have picked out a defective cat, I lifted the couch up from one end while Sal snatched the kitten up. He hissed until she cradled him in her arms and started petting him. This was the moment we created the attention seeking star of the show. Slider started purring madly, and from that day on, we couldn't do anything without Slider wanting to be a part of it.
The day before we moved from Myrtle Beach back to St. Louis, I decided to let Slider play in the grass. he had never left the confines of our 750 square foot apartment. He was terrified at first. Heart beating. Unsure of what the wind was. Looking to me for any sort of evidence of what to do, he eventually put his front paws into the grass. He loved it. I created another monster, an outdoor loving monster.
I can't count the amount of dinner parties or game nights he would throw off track by hopping on the middle of the dinner table, upset that the room's attention was not on him.
I couldn't just go outside and take the trash out because the little bastard would always try to run between my legs to escape.
And there are too many nights to count, where at 3 am, for no discernible reason, he'd climb on top of me and just scream.
As much as I like to complain about how much of a monster he could be, Slider is the best cat you could ask for. Just incredibly personable, charming, and lovable.
Where we warn people not to approach Crash. Newbie bolts for the basement as soon as the door opens. Slider was front and center. Please, handle him, man handle him, do whatever you want, cause he just wants to be part of the conversation.
March 9th
I'm trying to stay positive, but I'm starting to think of all the "normal" Slider things that he's stopped
doing. Anytime Slider felt like you needed a boost, he'd bring one of his stuffed cats to you. Every morning, I'd hear him grunting with an obviously full mouth, only to have him drop his stuffed tiger at my feet in my office, looking for his pet in return.
Every night, the same grunt, but this time his Beanie Baby tiger, dropped in bed next to me.
He hasn't done that for a few weeks. I only now just realized it. If this is actually the end, one of the hardest things is going to be seeing those stuffed animals around the house for the next few days. I'll probably build some sort of Slider shrine with those stuffed animals when he does pass.
I'm going to miss him being in my face. I'm going to miss the way he would walk between my legs and wrap his tail around my shin, as if he was watching my back.
It was always hardest to leave Slider on my business trips. (Sorry Sal, I think you handled me being gone better. Slider could not handle that.) He would get so forlorn and just mope around the house until I returned.
When I spent 3 months in Madison to train for my job, I think he had given up on me ever returning. Sal would sometimes put me on speaker phone and I could hear him running around the house screaming for me.
I opened the door first after being gone for those three months. He was at the top of the stairs, expecting Sal. But who was this? He froze, unsure if he was seeing what he was seeing. We locked eyes and I just said, "hey buddy" and he leaped down the entire flight of stairs into my arms, rubbing beards, and purring as if life had meaning again.
None of you will ever beat that as a welcoming back home. There's just no way for a human to compete with the complete trust and unconditional love an animal can give you.
March 10th
again. But he doesn't come upstairs as much as he used to. He doesn't try to sleep in bed with us.
I let him outside. He enjoyed the sunshine. He somehow escaped briefly and I caught him licking a chicken wing in the alleyway. If whatever sickness this is doesn't do him in, surely the rotavirus he just got from this trash wing will.
One of his favorite outside games is "playing stick." I'd basically rip a 4 foot stick off the tree line and tap it on the ground while he tried to kill it. He only had the energy to go after it a couple times. You could see in his eyes he wanted to murder that stick, but his body just wasn't cooperating.
Evening: Sal and I are listening to R.E.M. over the stereo system in the living room. Neither of us had to say that we were going to do it, we just knew it was right. We wanted to be around Slider.
In the best case scenario, he's sick, and we've comforted him for a few nights and we can get him back to health. In the worst case scenario, he's dying and I want him to have the best possible week he can.
When I said we get unconditional love, there's one condition. Your animal trusts you to make decisions for them. That's part of the contract right? They expect that if they are in pain and there's not a way to manage it, you'll be the ultimate decision.
It'll be difficult. It'll be traumatic. That is why I'm writing these thoughts down now. I don't know if I will be able to do it if we have to put Slider down Thursday, but I want to get words down to remember the good times.
We decided to set the projector up on the main floor so we could spend some time with Slider since he isn't coming upstairs as much. He got time outside today. He's been getting non-stop attention for 3 hours now. He's eaten roughly 7 cans of meat just today. I hate thinking this could be my last night with him, but I want to make sure we don't waste it.
I hope egg is on my face and this ends up being some dumb thing like he ate part of a plastic bag that is causing issues. But I don't know, this feels like peace. This feels like everyone in the room knows what's happening.
March 11th
We were due to take him to the vet between 8-8:30. I woke up before 6 am. I wanted to have a quiet
morning with him. As soon as I tossed a little, he started biting my beard like he used to all the time.
Slider has always been incredibly maternal. When we brought Newbie in the house as a kitten, Slider would bath him and show him where the food was.
This is one of my favorite pictures of our cats. Just two very content boys looking out the open window. Newbie appears to be reaching over to give Slider a bath, but really, they are helping each other out of their collars.
Sometimes they would fight, but don't all brothers? They were rarely in different rooms. They always came as a pair. We would have what I lovingly referred to as "boy hangs." Both guys would find a way to pile on top of me while we hung out.
They were my pack.
We sat on the couch together in quiet reflection this morning. There's a thunderstorm going on outside. It's a downpour. The type of downpour where Slider would for some reason really want to go outside. Today, we just sit here. Newbie shows up at some point and just hangs out.
Slider finds his voice again and is meowing like he used to. I haven't heard his voice in at least a week. He bites my forearm as I pet him. It's just like the old times. Actually I hope it's just like the "times." He's acting the more normal he has in weeks. Other than seeming a little unsure of his footing, he's being the lovable jerk he usually is.
Maybe it's false hope. Maybe I'm just looking for any signs I can. Maybe he knows he's sick and he's trying to put on a good face. But I have some hope today. I'm glad to have this reflective time with best friend of 13 years.
The sun came out for the 15 minute ride to the vet. It is warm. There are rainbows. We can still smell the rain. Just the most ideal weather for St. Louis.
Evening: It was worst case scenario. Slider had some sort of cancer that had run rampant in his digestive system. The vet said it was a matter of days, maybe a week or two at best, but Slider was going to die one way or another. She said he probably wasn't in pain now. He probably just felt like he had the flu. But that could change at any time and there wasn't much we could do.
The vet let us into the building to say goodbye. My boy let me hold him one last time. Pet his head between his ears. He was calm. I think he knew it was time. We were not. After they gave him the first shot to sort of put him in a daze, I had to leave. Sal stayed for the whole thing. She's much braver than I am.
I went to the car and ugly cried just repeatedly saying, "fuck" over and over again. The rain continued. No one could see me. It was my first time true isolation. And a year of frustration, sadness, anger, and heartbreak all came out. It's the most I've cried since I was 13 the night before my best friends funeral.
Night: Slider passed away at 2:37 pm on 3/11/2021. He was calm and went gracefully.
I've been alternating between remembering funny stories and crying all night. I think it may be that way for a while.
Is it worth having a pet and going through this just absolute heartbreak? Absolutely. There wouldn't be the heartbreak if there weren't so many good memories. So many times your animal just comforted you. So many times you realized you were part of this pack that no one else was a part of.
As much as my heart aches tonight, I would gladly take in another pet like Slider. He made me a better person.
The King of the Cats.
My best friend.
