It’s one of those times when I just haven’t had much to say or blog about. My heart was broken about three weeks ago, when I found it necessary to give up on one of my cats; something Marc and I never do.
Rocket came from the shelter in Yuma at only nine weeks old. We lost our golden boy Tucker to old age and disease and Rocket then became our sole cat for a couple of years. He was a handsome cat, lean and mean, and I doted on him and spoiled him rotten; no doubt contributing to his later bad behavior as we added additional members to our pet family. He was meant to be an only cat and preferred being outdoors hunting and having little interaction with people, even us. Despite this, he always made a good travel cat, curling up on my lap and not making a sound for eight hours at a time. He made life hell for the other three cats though and they lived in constant threat and stress from his unprovoked attacks. The thought of trying to corral and live with them all crammed into the small trailers this winter was weighing heavily on my mind. I’ve been contemplating getting him another home for the past year or more.
One day, agitated by the sight of our other male cat Jerry, Rocket turned on me and bit me hard on the wrist sinking all four canines deep into tissue. I knew it had to be viewed as the last straw so I immediately started looking for him a new home, an outdoor home. With the help of one of the shelter employees a new home was found, so on a lovely Friday I leashed him up for the last ride we’d take together. I handed him off at the shelter after saying goodbye to his quivering body as he obviously did not understand what was going on; and I headed home, and promptly broke down for two days. It was as bad as if I had to put him down. I think you can read the agony in my face in this last photo the night before, as he sat with me as if knowing something was up.
It's an awful thing to part with an animal that has been with you every day for five years plus, despite if the animal is an asshole in his way. He was also full of his fun little ways and quirks, in the prime of his life and he was a hunter extraordinaire. In fact, that’s the reason his new owner wanted him—to become a barn cat and help clear her 80 acres of rodents and pests. He should be excelling at his new station in life, free of other household pets so he gets the entire thing to himself. I know I couldn’t have asked for a better situation for him but I still miss him dearly and it’s an ache that will be there forever for having to give up on him. Stay safe my dear little Rocket man.