I struggled to come up with words to adequately describe him. He was so special that it’s hard.

I got him when he was just born. Someone dropped off a box of kittens in my driveway. He didn’t have his eyes open yet and still had the umbilical cord attached. I bottle fed and raised all seven of them. Bear was special. He just wanted to be held. All of the time. If you put him down, he would squall. So I carried him around with me everywhere and sang to him. I couldn’t think of many nursery rhymes so his favorite song was “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey.

That sweet boy never changed. He thought That he was a kitten, even though he was 20 pounds when he was healthy. His sickness nearly killed me too. The thought of being without my sweet boy nearly killed me. I vowed to him that I would do everything that I could to help him. And I tried. Even through the bladder expressing, the medicine, the enemas, he never offered to bite or hiss or try to scratch. He had to be suffering, but that was just my Bear. He worried about us and the other cats more than himself. He wanted to just be loved and he gave so much love.

When he was sick, I used to hold him in the late hours of the night and sing to him. It was the only way that he could rest. I made up a song for him, through the tears. He loved it. Even when he was struggling to breathe at the end, I would hum it and he would sleep for a bit.

“In another place, in another time

We’ll be wild and free

Chasing Mockingbirds through the willow trees.

I will find you there, my sweet Bear Bear.

Our hearts hurt without you, Bubby. We love you. “