This morning, I found Tet lying on his side, by the door to the patio, like he’d laid down to rest. He passed away during the night — he was still a little warm when I found him.
After a year and a half’s battle with cancer, partial renal failure, and a variety of other complications, the cancer finally got him. His last few days saw a significant upturn, as often happens shortly before someone with terminal illness dies. He came out and socialized with people at our end-of-term potluck for our students on Saturday night, and yesterday he dined on sizable helpings of tuna and 2% yogurt — we’d long since given up on the kidney-saving diet and just offered him food he would eat. He also spent a lot of time sitting on me as I read an essay of Carrie’s and a dissertation during the day, and later as we watched some TV. Up to the end, even though he was impossibly skinny, he had a strong will to live, an interest in affection, and an obsession with the faucet in the bathroom sink. He was a sweet and gentle cat, and we will miss him.