Spock RIP

Spock showed up on our front porch sometime in 2010 while we were feeding the neighborhood Tuxedo cat that we call Tux.  He was very emaciated, his head much larger than his body, and very wild.  Early on he bit Bill and David insisted Bill get rabies shots.  Over time his health improved but he remained very bitey.  Slowly he became more social and began exhibiting signs that he was a stray and not truly feral.  We called him Spock because of his large pointy ears.

In 2012, he began showing up with severe injuries from nightly cat fights.  We decided he needed to be neutered, so we obtained a trap from the Humane Society.  As soon as we brought the trap home, Spock disappeared.  One week went by, then another and then another more.  We concluded that he had not survived a cat fight and there were recriminations and grieving.  Then early one morning, Bill yelled up the stairs, "He's back.  Spock is on the front porch!"  Bill fed him breakfast, then later David fed him breakfast again and then that evening we noticed that his left ear was docked (the sign of a capture and release) and that he had indeed been neutered.  

In the following week, he worked his way inside and remained an indoor cat.  From the beginning, he spent almost every night sleeping at the foot of the mattress, he never missed a meal, he always wanted to get outdoors but not to be left outdoors and he remained a bit bitey, but hardly ever breaking the skin.  Frida hates to have her claws clipped and sometimes Maggie complains as well.  Whenever they became fussy, Spock would arrive lickety split, sometimes from downstairs, and attack the person who seemed to be harming a female cat.  We called him the "sheriff."  

This afternoon, Spock started meowing loudly and became very loud and very angry.  Bill found Spock at the top of the stairs without the use of his hind legs.  Spock could not be calmed or consoled.  So we loaded him into a cat carrier and into the car and in rush hour traffic headed across town to an animal hospital.  Spock was beside himself the whole way, crying and thrashing in the carrier.   He appeared to have thrown a blood clot which caused a saddle thrombis and was diagnosed with congestive heart failure.  Our only choice was euthanasia.

Our previous cats have declined and died in old age without the need of intervention.  This is the first time we have experienced an abrupt trauma which leaves one with shock as well as grief.

Spock's absence is everywhere.