Remembering Sanders

I knew it was coming. My head knew that Sanders was 15 years old and sick and way too skinny. My heart, however, wanted him to live forever.

Sanders died last night in his sleep. 

Like I said, I knew it was coming. I asked my dad to check Sanders' kennel when he brought the boys home after school in case he had died. I didn't want the boys to find him.  I even warned the boys that Sanders was very old and not well and would probably die before too long.

But Sanders was okay after school. Well, as okay as he's been lately. He got up on the couch, which he has been unable to do. He climbed the stairs to the bathroom and laid on the bath mat while the boys took their baths. He and I snuggled up on the couch for about two and a half hours last night, watching tv and dozing in and out. When I went to bed a little after 11:00, I picked him up and put him in his kennel. He made a strange noise, but curled right up in his bed.

I knew though. After about fifteen minutes I asked Duane to please go check on him. Duane got out of bed, and went downstairs. Sanders was still curled up and breathing and doing fine. Still, I asked if Duane would check on him before going to work in the morning. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle getting the kids ready and dealing with everything if Sanders died in the night.

That's exactly what happened. Duane woke me up at 6:00 this morning and told me Sanders had died . He was still curled up in his cat bed, but had passed. And I've been a wreck ever since.

Duane has been an angel. He took Sanders (still in his cat bed), covered him with a blanket and moved him to the garage before the boys got up so they wouldn't have to see him. While I was in the shower he took the kennel apart so I wouldn't have to see it empty. He took the day off work to be with me, knowing I am in no shape to drive to or do anything. He called the vet's office and made arrangements for Sanders' body to be cremated. I don't know what I'd do without him.

So I guess this is kind of like Sanders' obituary.

I got Sanders in 1997 from Cat Welfare. I wasn't in the market for a cat, I just wanted to go in and pet the cats there. Sanders was in a cage when I walked by, he stuck his paw out, tapped me on the arm and meowed at me. That was it. There was no turning back.  I found out that he was about a year old and had recently been returned by the family who had adopted him as a kitten. They said he was vicious and would attack their kids. Anyone could see there wasn't a vicious bone in this cat's body and I decided he only bit the kids because they tasted like chicken. I dubbed him Sanders after Colonel Sanders and a 14 year friendship was born.

Sanders was 100% my cat from day one. He let me rub his paws and his belly and wear him like a scarf. He came to me when I called him and would perch on the edge of the bathtub with his tail sticking in the water while I took a bath. He saw me through the falling apart of my first marriage and embraced Duane whole-heartedly as his human daddy when we got together.

Sanders loved peanut butter, pop-tarts and popcorn - the three "p's" He loved beer too and would always lick the lip of the bottle when I was done drinking one. I usually saved him a sip or two.

He was extremely patient and loving. No one would resist my puma-boy (I always thought he looked like a puma). Not even the vet's office when he was boarding there. Everyone loved him and they cried with me when we took his body in today.

I called him my soul mate kitty. I will miss him so very much.

Super Kitty!

"I make even this look good!"

Kisses from the mommy

Time for a scritch

kitty mind meld

"I'm the baby!"

Sanders trying to show baby Ryan how to crawl

Napping with baby Wesley

Looking at things from a new point of view

Ice cream time

"You rang?"

Kicking back with Ryan

Sanders and baby Wesley in Wesley's crib

Stuff on my cat

Sanders and Ryan

"You said it was a baby bed."

My handsome boy

Look at those rabbit feet

Sanders and baby Ryan

Ready to go

Sanders and Santa 2012

My sweet boy