Our Friend Bear

This morning, our dear friend Bear passed away. He had gone to the vet to get his health certificate for traveling. The stress must have been too much for him, because shortly after he returned home, he became distressed and then stopped moving. He was gone by the time Mr. Q and my oldest got him back to the vet's office, apparently of a heart attack. We are saddened, but slightly comforted knowing that he died here at home and not on a plane all cold and alone.

In August of 1998, my oldest and I found Bear tangled in the blackberry bushes behind my parents' house in Maine. He was a scrawny feral kitten with a tummy full of worms and the worst case of ear mites our vet had ever seen. He was a low maintenance cat, preferring to sleep the day away and only seek attention when it fit his needs. He always enjoyed sleeping under our bed; under the coffee table was a favorite spot, as well. He was quite timid, and even as a kitten, he didn't want to go outside like our other cat, Ariel. He never had a knack for jumping, either.

Bear moved with us from Maine to New Hampshire, to Massachusetts and then to Nevada, growing chubbier every year. He never liked the car, but all told, he moved nine different times (if you count his first trip as a terrified kitten) and always managed to calm down after the car trips. Sadly, it was not meant to be this time.

Good bye, Bear. I hope you are safely across the rainbow bridge!