Bogart, my commanding Maine Coon cat named after Humphrey Bogart from Casablanca, fought a gallant battle with carcinoma. He lost the battle at just over 16 years of age. Losing him is like losing my best friend which already happened once when my husband passed away four years ago. I am fortunate to have a second-best friend (new husband) who stayed with Bogie as he left this world. I simply couldn’t watch. I wanted to remember Bogart alive with his cute bow tie nose still wet.

But what a handsome dude! Never did he fail to draw attention to his size, his presence at almost 24 lbs in his youth with a big, sweet personality to match. Many threatened to silently steal him from me because of his kind, 1960s manners.

When I first met Bogie at the breeders, he eagerly fought my tennis shoelaces while the other litter mates were sizing us up for their potential new mom and dad. We wanted two Maine Coons. Which other one would want us? We walked away with Bogie and his almost full sister, Chloe. He at 4.4 lbs; she at 4 lbs both stealing the scene through the SF airport. Their birthdays were eight days apart. Chloe still going strong at over 16.

I could write and write and write so much about ‘my boy’. The time he caught a mouse and brought it up onto the bed. I thought it was a large moth that ran up my back. No. It was a white mouse courtesy of late-night playtime on the bed with Bogie. Then the many times Bogart taught my 80 lb GSD a thing or two. Guess who won?

He was deeply loved, cherished and cared for the best we knew how in his time of great illness. He looked up at me a day or so before he headed for Heaven as if he was telling me ‘It’s time’. Doesn’t make it any easier. He left this world with dignity and grace no longer hurting. The cancer didn’t win. Bogart did and he is with my late husband in total bliss.
-Susan C.