This post isn’t in any way related directly to my travels but is rather an opportunity for a brief catharsis. The last post recounting my train trip from Beijing to Saint Petersburg ended with this paragraph and photo:
At the end of the day, the flight landed safely at Dulles a few minutes ahead of schedule. I passed through customs and immigration a bit more quickly than I expected and without consequences (particularly since I had neglected to declare my half-eaten Twix bar). I took the shuttle to my car and drove home. I changed my clothes, sat in my chair, put my not so little cat Zicomo on my lap, drew a deep breath and said, “Well, I’m back.”
It saddens me to report that after 10 years of companionship, I decided to euthanize Zicomo (whom I usually called Zico) yesterday. While I was on my most recent trip to Europe, he became quite ill. In addition to his diabetes, he developed pancreatitis, anemia, and some other unknown infection. The stress of it all also created significant alopecia.
However, armed with copious medications from his vet, I was hopeful about his recovery the first day I had him home. He displayed a hearty appetite (something he has always had) and willingly took all the medicine. Sadly, the ensuing 36 hours saw his health and behavior rapidly decline finally reaching the point where he appeared to be suffering and prolonging it would have been unnecessarily cruel.
I’ll readily admit that Zico has never been the most playful or funny of his species. He was never going to be a YouTube star but he had other remarkable qualities. I adopted him a bit more than a decade ago at the urging of my friend Arnie who was working with Last Chance Animal Rescue and who called him a champion of a cat which, indeed, he was.
He was never fussy or finicky and although he’d occasionally gnaw on some wires, a loud command to stop always ended that. He never jumped onto unwanted places or scratched anywhere but his scratch pad. (He preferred horizontal to vertical scratching.) Early on, I proclaimed that if I could teach him not to shed (and maybe lose a few pounds), he’d have been the perfect cat.
But this made him easy. What made him special was being among the gentlest, most social, and friendliest cats imaginable. He actively sought not just my company but the company of anyone he met. When we reunited earlier this week, the vet and every tech who took care of him remarked about his sociability with humans and other animals. And this behavior came from a cat who was quite sick. When I called to schedule the appointment for his “good death,” Dynaia reiterated how everyone in the practice had come to love him over those three weeks – a remark I found both unsurprising and predictable because theirs was the universal reaction to Zicomo.
I know that people often engage in anthropomorphizing animals’ behavior – especially companion animals – and I am going to do that with Zico. As I struggled with this decision, I held him on my lap and told him I wished that he could somehow make my choice easier. An hour or so later he effectively did just that when he made no effort to go to his litter box, urinated on my bed, and simply continued to lay in the same place. In a way, it gave me some clarity and peace and, strange though it might sound, I will consider that his last gift to me.
Zico was a fine companion and I’m unashamed to reveal that I shed some tears through the process yesterday and again today as I wrote this little eulogy. I felt his affection (and hope I returned it) for more than ten years but I think he let me know I made the right judgement and I have to believe he’s no longer suffering.
With that, I will choose to remember the beautiful, bright-eyed, happy cat in this photo and the others here. And I will miss him.
He was family and it’s okay to shed tears today and each time you fondly think of your family member Zico. Hugs!
Thanks. I feel your hug. He was very much like family.
I loved him too! you both had a good life together. may your memories of him always be a blessing.
Thanks, Arnie. You’re not alone and I know how you felt about him from the start.
While we didn’t get to know him, he graces our wall in that very same photo you posted. We will make a toast in honor of your sweet feline companion.
I think Eric did meet him once but I appreciate the toast and I think Zico would, too.
I did indeed meet him when I came to DC for the Dead show back in ’15. Zico was one cool cat! I really enjoyed being in his presence. You provided such a loving home for him. <3
Cool cat! I get it.
It is hard to lose a pet, and extra hard when you have to make the decision about it. Sending you virtual hugs and warm thoughts.
Thanks, Jennifer. It was, indeed, a hard decision but I think it was the humane one.
I am sorry that you have lost your beloved cat animal. I know that you both shared many rewarding years together. It is one of the most bitter tasks of being a pet owner when you have to take those final steps. And I know you did your best to give Zico The best possible life. I am sure you will miss him deeply. He was a loyal and loving companion. It’s a testament to his sweet character that so many will miss him.
So sorry for your loss Todd
Dear Todd, we are so sorry for your loss. You will treasure your memories of and with Zico, but the loss of such special companionship will be difficult. We send our love and sympathy, and wish you peace during this sad time. ❤️ Kathryn & Paul
Thanks, K & P. I just returned from my daily constitutional (as my great aunt Lil would have called it) and it was odd coming into the house and not having Zico meet me as I took off my shoes. But it’s early days and I know I’ll adapt.
Zico reminds me of my cat Thutmosis (Moses for short) that we had to have euthanized a few years ago because he was suffering from a terminal illness. I’m sorry for your loss. We recover, but never forget.
“We recover, but never forget.” A true and wise observation, Bob. Thanks.
Dear Todd,
So sorry to hear of the loss of your beloved companion Zico. I know you will miss him but also remember the happy times you shared together.
Thanks for thinking of me, Trina.
Dear Todd,
What a lovely eulogy. Although I am sorry for Zico’s passing, I am encouraged to learn of the love you shared during your time together. As much as a gift he was to you, I believe you were equally a gift to him. Thank you for sharing this meaningful piece of your life. I look forward to reading and discovering more.
Thanks, Rebekah. It’s been nearly three weeks and I still look for him at times though that’s probably not too surprising.