In Memoriam; Timothy Tiberius Quincy Bear-Cat; 1988 - 2007

T-Bear died today. He was 19 years old, and one of the first cats my wife and I got after we were married.

He was gentle, affectionate, loving, and incredibly intelligent -- I swear this cat understood English. When someone was sick or tired or depressed T-Bear was there to comfort them and wash their forehead with his big, pink, rough tongue of his. Many a night he woke me up out of a dead sleep washing my forehead with that rough tongue.

A Prince amongst cats, he was Lord of all he surveyed. I found him one day at Chievres AFB in Belgium when I went in to get some medications for our other cats at the end of the day, and found him forlornly sitting on the desk. The lady behind the desk looked absolutely miserable as she asked, "You want a cat?" Well, no Thanks, I already had four (three really -- one was AWOL never to return, but we hadn't quite figured it out at that point yet.) The lady continued looking miserable as she said, "We have to put him to sleep at 5:00 pm if we can't find him a home." Apparently he had been dropped off by someone going back to the States, and rules allowed them to keep the animals for a week pending placement. Bear was so loving and sweet they immediately named him "Romeo" and made him the clinic mascot. This continued for several weeks until one morning when the clinic commander was in the middle of chewing out someone in his office (at the top of his lungs, most likely) when Bear jumped over the room divider onto the commanders desk, meowing loudly. (I suspect Bear liked the guy getting chewed out and was speaking up for him.) The commander gave them until 5:00pm to find the cat a home or he would euthanize him personally.

So into his life I walked at 4:48pm.

Ever inquisitive and curious, he once got his hind legs caught in a plastic bag from a grocery store and ran full speed through our house, that bag billowing behind him making big WHOOMP- WHOOMP- WHOOMP! noises behind him as he ran. (Much urine was recovered from that bag that day, let me tell you.) A mighty hunter, he frequently brought us offerings of birds, moles, voles, and the occaisional squirrel (!!!) until he was confined to the house in later life.

Bear went with us from Belgium to Missouri to Indiana to Texas. In Missour he met Poupette, and he immediately adopted her. They were inseparable, and he declined pretty quickly after she died last fall. In the end he lost all his teeth and was bone-thin, with sores on his feet from sleping all day and night. When he lost control of his bowels and bladder, it was time.

He was a damned good cat. Best I've ever had, maybe.

~~JD~~