Two Weeks Shy of 22 Years, Ooch Leaves Us

In mid-December of 1991, a grey and white kitten was born; he ended up at the Humane Society in February of 1992.  He was adopted by a young man and named "Ooch."  I have no idea how the cat was named, or how the owner decided that would be his moniker; but the kitten became Ooch.  Ooch and his master lived together for 5 years; then his owner became involved  with a lady who has a huge allergy to cats; the human couple decided to marry.  The cat was then "adopted" by the young man's mother, Connie. Connie is a gardener and a nurturer by nature; she loves all animals, but prefers to have a dog, if she must have a pet.  But she promised her son she'd take care of Ooch for his life.  None of us expected Ooch to almost make it to his twenty-second birthday.  -  I've been his pet sitter for the past ten years, and Ooch will be missed.  Over the past seven years, Connie has called me and told me that Ooch wasn't doing well, and I have visited him and spent time just having him sit in my lap - and he's recovered from his troubles.  Nearing 22 years, he had stopped grooming himself, ate little, drank much, and was a little walking skeleton kitty. However, he still caught mice, chased birds, purred loudly, and demanded attention with a mighty yowl.  He wasn't in any pain.  Two weeks ago, though, he developed a skin infection - and the antibiotics made him more ill, without any healing effects.  Sunday, we said goodbye.  A vet came to the house, and Ooch peacefully passed away in his warmed bed, in the seat of a winged back chair in Connie's office.  We will always honor the memory of Ooch.  He taught me perseverance during adversity.

Ooch, aged 19 years