R.I.P. Bowie Cat

My cat Bowie died this evening suddenly. Our local vet was closed due to Covid, so I had to drive an extra half hour to the nearest emergency vet. By the time I got there, it was already too late and the doctor sympathetically explained that it would be cruel to try and keep her alive in the state she was in when she arrived there. I appreciated her logic. No doubt she’s seen this many times before.

I can only imagine what people are going through losing loved ones in this time and being denied the right to see them or having to take longer for care because some supposed leader made an arbitrary decision on who should do what and who should not do what.

I don't think this country respects life any more, and that is a crying shame.

Bowie was much too young to go at age eight. I suspect it was a heart issue as they tend to come on quickly; for all I know it was never diagnosed despite my being almost OCD about her health.

I named her Bowie because of her "Aladdin Sane" coloring on her head. That cool jagged slash of white cutting through her grey.

On this day, Regis Philbin, the actor John Saxon (most people know from Enter the Dragon) and the inimitable founder of Fleetwood Mac, Peter Greenall died today. At least Bowie cat was in good company.

She was definitely more loving than usual today and demanded more pettings than usual. To placate her, I made her special bed of warm laundry. At least she had a good final day before she shuffled off her mortal coil.

The vet will cremate her ashes and scatter her over the Pacific. I am filled with a sense of relief and calm knowing this, as I have been going to the beach every morning as part of my long walk and coffee run routine. It will be nice to know she's there watching out for me.