Roscoe - In Memorium

Roscoe

My sweet Roscoe died yesterday.

It was as if his whole body suddenly gave up.  The vet said he had congestive heart failure, which led to his lungs filling up with fluid so much the vet couldn't hear air going through them.  His rear legs were losing their ability to function.  He stopped eating - even treats, though he was still drinking water.  He couldn't use the litter box properly.

He still liked to be patted and purred even in the vet's office.  But he had zero energy and even turning over seemed to wear him out.

Roscoe made me laugh.  He loved toys and would bat them all over the house.  He invented a game where he'd sit next to a wooden armchair and bat a toy under the chair, and then around the legs, and then he'd pounce on it and start all over again.  And he'd mew the whole time.  He'd walk through the house holding a toy in his mouth mewing constantly as he walked.  In fact, I learned that when he'd mew nonstop he'd be playing with a toy.  He'd jump up on a chair or bed with his toy and curl up around it and go to sleep.

Here in the RV he'd sit on the bench seat at the table and bat at the dogs' tails as they wagged back and forth.  He still managed to find places to bat his toys around here, though there were no more chair legs for him to use.

He could also be infuriating because he continued his batting habit with the water dish.  He couldn't take a drink of water without shoving the water dish around on the floor, over and over.  This habit not only sloshed water around but also meant I had to look where I was stepping in case he'd shoved the dish into the middle of the floor, which he sometimes did.  Drove me absolutely crazy.

One of his great advantages in my eyes was that he didn't like to lie on my lap but instead lay right next to me.  That meant I could jump up and down to do things for my mom and me without having to disturb my kitty each time, and he never seemed to mind.  He was very affectionate - always on his own terms, of course, but that was fine with me.

He had a strong sense of dignity and insisted that everyone treat him with respect.  He was perfectly willing to hiss and claw at the dogs if they got too close to him.  Actually, he was perfectly willing to do that to me too if I tried to do things to him he didn't like.  He refused to let me give him medicine orally, for instance, which limited the vet's choices on treatment sometimes.  Fortunately, he was rarely sick.

He was 13.  He seemed so tough I was hoping he'd live for years more.  But he and Jasper had been together for a long time, and Roscoe's behavior changed after Jasper died.  I think being together may have helped mask Roscoe's ill health, but once Jasper was gone Roscoe was on his own.  Maybe he'd drawn a lot of strength from his brother and didn't have enough to fight for very long when he was on his own.

I loved him very much and miss him all the time.