The Last Days of Buster Keaton

That which we most feared and dreaded has come to pass. My beloved beast of the past 18 years, my best friend, the four-legged love of my life, has left us. When I left work for my vacation on June 10th, Buster was very hard of breathing and had to be rushed to the vet. He barely made it through the night (in fact, none of us expected to take him home that night, and all of us quietly wished that he would die in his sleep so that he could at least die at home and end his suffering), but shocked us all the next day when he made a rapid recovery. His breathing returned almost to normal and he was out and about, sitting in the sun and even eating some treats. When Amanda came up, I even got to indulge in my favourite pass-time: watching bad tv while curled up with my girlfriend, with my cat purring on my chest.

Saturday, June 12th, was my 26th birthday. I spent most of it in the City with Amanda, so I didn't get much Buzzy time, but my mom tells me he had a good day. Sadly, it did not last. By the time I saw him that night, he had had what the vet believes to have been a stroke. He could no longer hold his head up properly, and his eyes were wide and staring, his pupils seeming to have difficulty dilating. His condition worsened overnight to the point that he could not eat and could barely stand without stumbling. Even lying down, he seemed to have trouble supporting his head. As little as we all wanted to, my parents made an appointment with our vet for that afternoon, and we said our goodbyes as well as we could. Even in his weakened state, even with his trouble lifting his head, he still managed to rub his face all over my hands and forehead. The love of that boy.

June 13th was possibly the hardest day of my life. When we took him out of the carrying case, he dove straight into my arms. He stayed there to the last. My mom told me that when her cats had been put down when I was younger, the vet just gave them the final shot, which is apparently painful and I imagine doesn't give you much time to digest what's happening to your loved one. Our vet gave Buster a strong sedative first so that he wouldn't feel the final shot. I got to hold him in my arms until we were "ready" - not that we would ever have been ready, really.

The vet and his wife/receptionist were very, very good. Very sympathetic. And Amanda was wonderful as well. I told her I would understand if she waited outside, but she stayed with us the whole time. I'm glad. There's strength in numbers, and it was all we could do not to go to pieces as it was.

So that's how it ends... I have many more pleasant stories to tell about this past week, some wonderful stories even, and I will tell them soon, but I had to give Buster his own post. It just wouldn't have been right any other way.