Boogie Boogie was born in my guest bedroom. His momma was a stray cat who chose my house to have her kittens in. We gave all the kittens away except for one solid black cat who we named Boogie. I have always been Boogie’s advocate. Ever since his birth, I have fought to keep him healthy and in our family. Boogie was not a typical cat. He had “issues”. He had a flea allergy that made him bald with one single flea bite. He had Stomatitis, which kept his mouth full of painful ulcers and his body frail. And he was shy. He didn’t trust many people. But he trusted me. Maybe he knew I believed in him. He peed on the carpet. On the floors. Any time he was sick. And he was always sick. So it became a battle. Me and Boogie against the world. It was pretty hard to convince the world Boogie was a good cat. Boogie acted half feral in the summer months. He came in to eat but would rarely show his face for anything else. We moved in August. My biggest fear was leaving Boogie behind. And of course, when moving day came along, Boogie was no where to be found. I spent the next two weeks driving back to the old house, trying to catch Boogie in an animal trap. Night after night I left a fresh can of tuna fish waiting to be devoured. I was beyond happy when the day came and I pulled up and he was in that trap. I made him an indoor cat once we moved. For his own good (and my sanity). Then one day, Boogie escaped. My heart ached again, knowing he was in a new place, with new territory, and not familiar with how to get home. He was gone for over a week. Day after day, night after night, I called his name. Then one afternoon, I finally heard a faint meow. It came from the neighbors barn. He was locked in the barn the entire time. Boogie came out skinny, hungry and grateful. Because Boogie was allergic to fleas, he spent half his life loosing hair. One could always tell were Boogie sat by the nest of scabby hairy clumps he left behind. Nasty cat. But it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t ask for this unrealistic allergy. He certainly didn’t like being bald. Boogie’s biggest battle was his mouth. Stomatitis is a very painful condition that is not treatable by ordinary means. A single piece of plaque in ones mouth causes a storm of ulcers raging through the gums and tissues. Along with unbearable pain comes a fountain of drool. Smelly, slimy, bacterial rich drool. All over the place. If you couldn’t tell where Boogie sat by hair alone, you could always guarantee the ring of foul soaked sheets to be his. The only solution to the problem was to pull out all his teeth. A very costly and not guaranteed solution. 20% of cats still have flare ups even without teeth. Poor Boogie. If you could get past all his flaws, one would find a very gentle, loving cat. If one would bother to pet him, you would find he could purr as fierce as his momma. And she could purr! Although Boogie was afraid of people, he was a social cat with the other animals. Boogie loved his momma. They would great each other with head rubs and purrs. Boogie would insistently follow Turner around the house, despite Turner’s disapproval. Boogie tried so very hard to make Turner like him. Sequoia was his favorite. You could find them together, curled up on the couch, embracing each other’s company. To tell the truth, Boogie was very overwhelming. The constant battles of why a cat in his condition should remain alive and in our house was very exhausting and emotionally draining. Before Boogie’s last flare up, he was doing well. He had gained weight, was very much a social cat, and appeared happy. It breaks my heart that he died the way he did. Malnourished. Sickly. He had begun to loose hair, which appeared like his flea allergy was flaring up. But then he starting drinking bowls of water, only to throw them up. I knew he needed help. But help didn’t arrive soon enough. The spiral of death came in with vengeance. Boogie will always be in my heart, keeping his memory alive. Nasty sweet cat. Flaws and all. I chose to keep him. He was my friend.
This was beautifully written and full of heart....something beautiful to read with compassion for a change. How old was Boogie? I am very sorry about Boogie. My Minxy cat, who is 5 years old now, also has stomatitis, and had her teeth all removed pretty early on and the we took her to a holistic vet and so far so good....She can eat...little amounts each time....and she will always be very tiny.....but she is still thriving....
My parents' dog Suzi is being put down today. Very sad. She has what might be a sarcoma in her leg. The vet had mentioned chemo and they're anticipating lots of treatments, tests, biopsies, and other stuff that we don't have insurance for, so they made the decision to put her to sleep. It's sad.
Thank you. Boogie was 6 years old. He was a young cat who fought hard. We had asked for quotes several times to remove his teeth, and we got the run around. It seemed like Boogie was at a loss. I’m so glad it is working for your cat. It’s terrible to watch your animals suffer.
You have to look at it that you gave him a safe and loving home for 6 years that he otherwise not have had. Our older cat died a few months ago after 16 years with us. It is always sad to loose a friend.
Yes. Animals can be highly expensive. I lost my dog a few months before Boogie died. I ended up taking her to the animal hospital, where they make you pay an immediate $1,000 just to get an appointment. Sequoia ended up having three blood transfusions, and insulin drip, and in the end, we got a call at 4 am asking if we wanted to go ahead and put her down. So emotionally draining are our animals. But they also fill a wonderful void in our hearts.
