I feel as though a piece of my heart is missing.

My beautiful big tom cat Archer left us last night.

It came on so suddenly.  I was in the kitchen doing some dishes and I heard a deep moan from one of the cats.  I thought that our neighbor's orange tabby had dropped by for a visit.  The cats make the strangest noises defending their territory.  I went in the living room to see Archer lying on his side by the front door, panting and making that strange pining sound.  His breath was raspy.  Jane, one of the other females, must have thought that Archer was playing with them because she growled back and swatted at him.  Archer pulled himself away from her on his front legs, dragging his hind legs uselessly behind him.  Something was terribly wrong.  I shooed the other cats away and tried to get a closer look at my boy.  His hind legs just wouldn't work and he had lost control of his lower functions as well.  I felt totally helpless.  Barbara was in the room by then and called the emergency animal clinic.  They told us to bring him in as soon as possible.

The ride to the clinic was tense.  Archer's cries got more pained as his discomfort and fear deepened.  To make matters worse, I missed the exit and had to double back at the next one, extending our travel time by a few minutes.  A nurse had to come from the back to buzz us in the front door of the clinic.  We quickly passed off the carrier with a brief explanation and filled out paperwork allowing the vets to do whatever possible, pain meds, IV, etc.

After a long wait, which we later realized was just a few minutes, we were ushered into a side room to see the doctor.  The prognosis was grim.  He was in congestive heart failure and a blood clot had broken free from his heart and went to his legs, thus causing the paralyzation of his lower body.  He also had fluid in his lungs causing rasping and shortness of breath.  It turns out that he had heart disease and we never knew.  Never had a clue.  Archer was the most strong, active cat I'd ever owned.  The doc explained that there was very little to be done.  Yes, he could be treated but the chances of recovery were very slim.  Even if he stabilized there was a very good chance that another clot would hit him.  If he'd had just one or other of the problems facing him it may have been possible to seek treatment.  But both the heart attack and the blood clot left us one option.  That is one decision that I never want to have to make again.

Barbara and I were heartbroken at the news.  Archer was with us for six years.  Six years.  So very young.  Our friends Sharon and John brought him back from Hilton Head.  They found him in a parking lot mewling loudly and all alone.  He was terribly small and undernourished and his his ears were huge.  I really wanted to name him Edgar after the Bat Boy but Barbara refused.  We settled on Jonathan Archer of the starship Enterprise.  He was a varied mix of breeds.  A mutt, you would say if he was a dog.  Dark brown and grey stripes on his back with a startlingly white belly and paws.  His face had a splotch of white on one side of his nose giving him a distinct lopsided look which we never noticed unless seeing him in a mirror.  He was very active and playful.  When we pulled into the driveway he was always sitting in the window seat that faces the carport and would run into the hall to greet us as we came in by way of the office, reaching his fore paws up on the wall as if to make himself as tall as possible.  He loved to snuggle against my cheek.  And if I didn't pay enough attention to him he would head butt my face until I did.  He loved to be carried around on my shoulder.  I think I'll miss that the most.  He just couldn't get enough love from his daddy.

We stayed with Archer as the vet gave the injection.  Barbara told me what to expect as she had put down her cat Kimmer so many years ago.  I am so glad that we were there with him in those final moments.  We kissed him told him that we loved him and to look for Kimmer.

I am not sure what I expected my memories from that moment would be but I can tell you what they are.  The light slowly going out of his eyes.  The weight of his head in my hand.  Stillness.  Peace.

Archer has reached the path at the end of the clearing.  I will miss my big boy.