Shadoe 1996 - December 29, 2008
Our oldest and perhaps sweetest cat, dear little Shadoe, died this evening, a very short while ago. She had been failing for awhile, most likely due to some cancerous growth, so we knew her days were numbered. Forewarned doesn't make the loss even the tiniest shred easier, though. Maybe a part of the pain is tears for the truth that each one of us will die, too.
Shadoe was a dear little friend, so-named because after following me home from a nearby culvert where she'd been dumped by some unthinking idiot, seldom did she ever let me out of her sight again. She became a little grey shadow. Known in her younger years as "Slash," never have I seen a cat as fast and lethal as her, and I have the scars to prove it, too. The windows were sometimes left open in the spring, and now and then a hapless bird would find its way in. I remember coming home one day to find the very tip of a wing and just the head of a little brown wren. Sitting in the sunny spot on the floor, carefully cleaning herself, was an extremely self-satisfied Shadoe.
Shadoe preferred sleeping on our shoulders, often while we worked at the computer, but she was especially fond of Peter's warmth and broad expanse.
Ron and Shadoe had a special connection, too, and his strangely delayed visit this year meant they spent her last good month together...usually sitting in a chair, his hand resting where she could press against it for some love. Obviously, the delay happened for a reason. As you can see, they were both perfectly happy with her sprawled across his comfie chest, too.
Shadoe's cremated remains will join our other friends, Tish, Buster, Raddish, and Ivy, and eventually I will join all who have gone before. Someday we will all meet up again at the Rainbow Bridge.