Goodbye, old buddy
Sleep deprived all this week, barely awake at work today and unspeakably sad...almost nine years since we last lost a pet but there you go, that's what happens. I first met Tanker in 2003 as a customer at Fremont Gardens then I got a job there in '04, and we became co-workers. A little German fellow, born in Berlin, adopted by an American GI stationed there...she brought Herr Tanker back to the states with her but soon after she was transferred to Scotland, where they have or had a six-month quarantine on little critters. Tank stayed in the US, eventually finding work at the nursery. Not the most charming guy: his name is derived from Cantankerous 'cause golly, he just had a foul little disposition and especially hated children, swatting at them and hissing enough my old boss feared a lawsuit. She didn't really like him much so when she retired in '07 and suggested Andy and I take the lease on the place and do our own thing with it, her exact words were:"Bad news is, you have to take the cat."
And we did, and it was certainly a happier match. :) His abrasive purrrsonality matched ours but honestly, he did chill out after the boss left. He even let us put these bunny ears on him one Easter and he didn't try to kill us, nor even hiss or yowl (much). He lived at the shop until we closed it in 2013, adjusting surprisingly well to his new kitty roommates, Casper and Minnie, once we brought him home. He was already getting rail-thin, though, and some people thought we were abusing him. The vet checked him out and declared him healthy, just a skinny guy, despite a robust appetite. Even before we moved last year we were giving him little bowls of half 'n half a couple of times a day and, though toothless by then, he gummed his kibble and canned food with gusto. He'd had horrible gas at the nursery (little beast could clear a room!!) but that went away when we brought him home.
A few months ago it became clear this was to be his last trip around the sun. He wasn't in any obvious pain but he started spazzing out this week, yowling to himself and losing control of his legs. His last two nights he slept on the bed with us, which he hadn't done in a few months. We spent some time with him out in the yard mid-week so he could sleep in the sun, and that perked him up for a bit; he could walk again for a bit. Yesterday morning, though, he could barely move. I went to work and Andy called me about an hour later...
He's got a beautiful resting place under the rowan tree near the NE corner of the house. Auf wiedersehen mein kleine freund, mein Herrball. RIP Tanker, May 29 1999 - July 24 2015. ~