Alexander the Grey(t) Part III, Lessons Learned from a Dying Semi-Paralyzed Cat .................................9/6/12

     Hello again,

I hope you are having a terrific Sunday. Mine has been pretty good.

      Recently, I've posted two parts that belong to a series I wrote about a dear friend.  I see some have
been eager to find out more about my friend Alexander the Grey. The right sidebar reveals several guests to this inn dug through my archives and read Part III, making it one of the most popular reads this past week.

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For those who haven't read part three, here is the original post:

    For my regular readers, this post will not be about gratitudes. You are forewarned.

     One night, when Alexander the Grey(t) was two years old, a car hit his backside. His owner, Arlene, didn't know this right away.  Worried, she was, when, for an interminable day, his mischievous presence was absent.  The following evening, while cooking dinner, Arlene heard a loud thump.

      Somehow, he managed to
pull himself up, with his front paws, onto the roof of her house, reaching the bathroom window on the second floor.  He clawed his way through, crashing unto the ceramic floor. Hearing the ruckus, and discovering Alex in the bathroom, his owner knew, by the look in his serious-looking, big round eyes, something wasn't right with her normally frisky, furry friend. For the vet's office, they flew.

       Taken to a pet emergency hospital in Berkeley that night, the x-rays revealed his hip was dislocated and his spleen torn in three pieces. Without treatment he would die within the hour.  Did she need to make a call, they asked?  No.  A specialist was called.  Alexander was patched together----Arlene's purse was several thousand dollars lighter, but she was happy to still have her gray companion. Such can be the financial options of a normally frugal, single, woman with no kids.........

       As a side note, Alexander the Grey(t) had an enormous purr. After this event, this sound of contentment was never the same---doing so softly was all he could manage.  It was the only way this writer knew him: as a traumatized cat.  This was not the first time he was traumatized, however. (More about that in the update below.)

      This morning, thirteen-and-a-half years later, Alex is at it again, with his front paws.

      I dropped by early this morning.  I headed to his death-bed perch: his enormous pillow, topped with an electronically heated blanket. He was gone. My heart beating rapidly, I followed the trail of kibble.

     The kitchen floor was in shambles, kibble tossed throughout the floor. This Russian Blue knocked the bowl of food over when he rolled off his bed and pulled himself, using only his two front paws----his rear legs are lifeless now----twenty-five feet, to the living room sliding glass door, which faces lovely Redwood trees. There he was, peering outside, his gray tail poked through the hole of his Simple Solution doggie diaper; he no longer can jump into the litter box.

     Alex learned in a day, how to sit up on his elbows. Amazing. Lesson: when my time on earth draws to a close, I pray my determination to make the most of my remaining time will equal his.

      I've been helping Alexander's owner.  She's recovering from cancer surgery to the front portion of her left ankle.  It's been eleven months.  Recently, her foot has gotten worse.  She's in constant pain.

      Her wound has not healed--the tendon to her ankle is still exposed. It turned green, now it's black and she suffers from necrosis---portions of her tendon have died.  The doctor will be removing a portion of it.  Pray for her, please.  She's been on leave; her employer demands her return.  I know, unbelievable, isn't it?

      Right now, I'm in a back room I use from time-to-time.  It's my getaway, during moments when Arlene's sleeping, resting, or I need to wait, before taking her to one of her multiple doctor's appointments or have time to kill before cooking a meal.  With an orthopedic oncologist, a radiologist, oxygen hyperbaric chamber treatment doctor, plastic surgeon, general practitioner, oriental medicine doctor and trips for other business, she's needs plenty of rides.  She's resting as I write, right now.

      Alex is with me, at my feet, curled up, cinnamon roll-like on the  floor, his tail covering his nose; he's blissful, even with an cryptococcal infection that makes his nose sound like a coffee percolator. I'm scratching his head, softly pulling the loose skin between his head and ears---he likes it when I do that.  It's a special massage he gets from me.  Lesson: there's much to be said about the comfort shared between two friends.

Innkeeper's  update
         My furry friend, Alex, went on to feline heaven the following day.  My grey pal died at 8:28 p.m., while cuddled in his owner's arms, his head against her heart. I cancelled my appointments that day. I was there with him and his owner.

         He's missed greatly. I'm thankful for the love we shared and the privilege of being his friend for five-and-a-half years.  Alexander the Grey was more like a dog, than a cat.  He was a loyal, a one-person type of feline. When his owner and I would call him, he would come to me.

        This blue-grey friend followed me around, until his penultimate day.  We were buddies.  Mr Grey was a feral cat found in the forests of Mendocino, California, near the grounds of a monastery.

        His dad he never knew.  Arlene found him at 2-3 days of age, inadvertently dropped by his mother, abandoned, left on his own.  I know you'll think I'm crazy with my next comment. That's okay.  I believe Alex liked me because I provided a loving masculine energy he never had before he met me.

My Final Lesson:
        I never knew I'd feel as strongly as I have, for that little guy.  Click on the links below, for more stories about the friendship Alex and I shared.
Related Posts: 
Alexander the Grey(t) Part I,   My Friend
Alexander the Grey(t) Part II,  The Joy of Simple and Quiet Pleasures with a Bewhiskered Friend 
Alexander the Grey(t) Part IV, Suffering Loss (Second half of this post.)