Alexander the Grey, Part II. The Joy of Simple and Quiet Pleasures With a Dear Friend

I used a glass bowl, like this one, to give Alexander the Grey water

    Hello everyone,

I hope you had a terrific Thursday. This evening, I did laundry. The scent of freshly washed clothes invigorates
my bedroom.  Not bad.

     More about my dear friend, Alexander the Grey.  I wrote this last year. 

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Buddy Time with a Cat in Decline

     Alexander, my friend's cat, is still kicking. Although, it's no longer with his hind feet. It's his heart that perseveres. I dropped by his house and helped out earlier today. He no longer walks.

     I love his quiet determination. I witnessed him using his two front paws, pulling himself along the carpet, as he tried reaching the litter box. A feline diaper, he now wears. I picked my furry friend up, held him in the box and removed his undies. He took care of business.

     Afterwards, outside, on a big pillow, like the royal pasha he is, I transported him. Laying on his side, unable to move, he viewed the rows of Redwood trees in his backyard. The moment reminded me of a scene from the movie Solyent Green, where Edward G. Robinson went to end his life.

     In the film, Robinson reclines, drinks something that will do him in. Before his eyes, he views films of nature and listens to music, before passing on. Once outdoors, Alexander's ears perked up. His eyes darted.

     Neighboring cats, Sammy the Siamese, Benjamin, the tuxedo cat and Freddy, the puffy, big, half-feral black cat, came by to sniff him and say good bye, real gentle like. After the feline visitors departed, we sat, watching darting flies---cats notice the darnedest things----butterflies and the occasional flitting of a bird. I swear I saw a smile creep upon his bewhiskered face. Alex had been cooped against a wall in the kitchen, all day, until then.

    When I returned him to the house he owns, that he shares with the resident, Arlene, I thought he might be thirsty. Outside, the sun, at length, had caressed his back.  A small glass water bowl was brought to Mr. Grey.  As I approached, water splashed in the bowl.  His eyes expanded, reaching out for it, like a cartoon character seeing something that captures its fancy. With the water bowl standing on his pillow, inches from his face, Mr.Grey was unable to drink.

    No longer can he sit or stand. This being the case since Monday.  Tenderly, from behind, I pulled him up with a hand on each of his sides, allowing his scrawny body to stand, in front of the shimmering bowl. He lowered his head and drank and drank and drank.

    I'm thankful for simple pleasures.  I never realized how satisfying it is doing hospice care, tending to a dying cat, taking time to slow down and listen, as Alexander spoke to me with his beautiful green eyes.