The beginning of a tribute to a longtime shadow, companion and friend

For me, this post has extra meaning - the beginning of a journal that will serve as a tribute to my 15-year-old cat, Casey, my longtime shadow, companion and friend who I learned yesterday has advanced leukemia and acute liver disease and has been give no more than a month to live. The ongoing posts from the journal will not only serve as a tribute to Casey – and a resource for readers who are baseball fans and pet enthusiasts – but they will also provide personal therapy for me. I find it beneficial to – when dealing with a difficult situation – express my feelings in words.

Obviously, this series will not replace the daily baseball posts. After all, the Red Sox, Yankees and baseball are what Sox and Pinstripes is all about, and Hot Stove League action is increasing. Yet, on occasion, we do post personal essays about subjects not related to baseball, but focusing on human interest. If you are a pet enthusiast who understands and embraces first-hand the human-animal bond, I encourage you to read every word. If you are a person who thinks, “He is just an animal, you can get another one,” I advise you to skip these posts altogether.

Since this is a baseball blog, I will tell you a tale about Casey, the baseball fan. Sometimes – about a dozen games a season – I see the Red Sox at ballparks nationwide as a spectactor. And there are times when I am on assignment and have media credentials to games. Most times, though, I watch the Sox via my MLB Extra Innings package on my couch in Florida.

My cats have long gotten accustomed to be profanity-laced outbursts when the Red Sox are not playing well, or when an umpire blows a call, and they are familiar with my shouts of exhilaration when all is going well. Since he entered my life, Casey has relaxed with me on the couch when I watch TV, just as he has lounged on the pet bed next to my computer when I am in my office.

Two years ago – just in time for the 2007 baseball season – I bought my first HDTV and purchased the MLB Extra Innings package. Before, I watched games through MLB.com on my computer. HDTV is much better, an opinion that Casey shared. The first couple games I watched on the HDTV, I noticed Casey staring at the screen, apparently mesmerized by what he saw. I have heard of dogs and cats watching television, but as the days and weeks passed, I realized that Casey only did so when a baseball game was airing. Perhaps it is the colors, the sounds, the movement – I’m not sure – but he has sat by side or rested on my stomach and gazed at the screen when baseball is on. I thought it was fitting, since he was my shadow, and I am more captivated by baseball on TV than anything else that airs. I never saw him watch a game on my old standard TV, but he sure loves baseball on the HDTV screen.

By my side, Casey has witnessed no-hitters by Clay Buchholz and Jon Lester, the amazing comeback against the Indians in the 2007 ALCS and the subsequent World Series title, last year’s opening day in Japan during the wee hours of the morning, the storybook comeback in Game 5 of last year’s ALCS, and every Red Sox-Yankees game that I didn’t watch in a sports bar. I like to think Casey is a Red Sox fan, since that is the team that he has watched the most. Baseball will always be a passion of mine, but the games I watch at home this year just won’t be the same without Casey by my side.

My tribute to Casey continues in a journal that I started on Tuesday, when I found out about his illness. I will keep writing a daily journal up to the day he takes his last breathe.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Today, I learned that Casey has leukemia. Not feline leukemia, my veterinarian explained, but the type of leukemia that humans get. Simple put, feline leukemia is a transmittable virus. The leukemia that Casey has cannot be spread to other animals, and it is related to bone marrow. I never realized that cats could get that type of cancer. I though that "feline leukemia" was the only kind of leukemia that cats could contract.

I had a feeling that something serious was wrong. Until now – for all of his adult life – Casey has been a long and big cat. At one point, he weighed 20 pounds, but when I took him to the emergency veterinary clinic two days ago, he was down to 10.6. I figured the gradual weight loss was age-related because Casey is 15 and he did not show any signs of illness until Sunday, when he strained while trying to relieve himself, and vomited several times.

A decade ago, I was editor and publisher of a regional pet care magazine, so through the multiple articles I wrote, I became familiar with many diseases and conditions that afflict cats and dogs. Based on his symptoms two days ago, I figured that Casey was suffering from a urinary tract infection, which is common in male cats.

I was stunned when the veterinarian told me that he has leukemia, and a severe liver condition. As expected for a cat who is 15, Casey’s prognosis is grim. Dr. Holder told me that he likely has no more than a month to live, and that from the point forward it will be a day-to-day situation of monitoring how he is feeling.

Today, Casey is walking gingerly, but he still has an appetite, and he is still following me around every room – and lying next to my computer when I am working, and at the foot of my bed when I’m sleeping – as he has his entire life.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Today, I am finding it extremely difficult to concentrate knowing that I will soon be without a longtime, dear friend who has been there is good times and bad since I took him in as a stray when he was one year old.

Since I was old enough to remember, I have shared a love for cats and dogs. I would frequently bring home strays, and when I think about my childhood, the images of playing wiffle ball in the backyard, baseball at the park and my family’s two dogs are my fondest memories.

My childhood dogs lived long lives. I was 26 and 28 respectively when each one died. As an adult, because of my schedule in the communication field – and my spontaneous nature – I have preferred cat. I have been the caregiver to five, two of which have passed away in the last five years, and Casey (who, as I mentioned, is 15), Cody (who is 15, and Amber (who was named by my friend’s niece; and is six). They are all former strays.

The story of how Casey entered my life is amusing. I have dated the same woman on and off for a long time (over 15 years). We were best friends before we started dating, and we have remained close friends – even in periods over the years when we have not dated seriously. Anyway, she is like me – prone to taking in strays and either keeping them or finding them homes.

One day, back in 1995, she told me about a gray, declawed cat that was apparently abandoned by his owners and roaming her neighborhood. At the time, we both lived in the Wright-Patterson AFB area, and unfortunately there are times when military families get pets and then irresponsibly leave them behind when they are transferred to another base. Perhaps Casey was one of these left-behind animals.

Mandy lived in a small house then, and she already had two cats, and didn’t have room for another. I had two cats as well, but I was willing to add another. So, one afternoon while Mandy was at work, she arranged for me to meet her brother at her office parking lot, and get the cat. I expected a tiny, energetic kitten. Instead, out stepped a long, massive animal that looked more like a bobcat than a typical house cat. I later learned from the veterinarian that he was 1, but he looked older because of his size. I would soon learn that he was a gentle giant – the type of cat that follows me everywhere I go in the house, greets me at the door when I get home, treats even people he sees for the first time like a longtime friend and does not hesitate to sit in my lap or lie on my stomach when I am relaxing on the couch.

As for Casey’s condition today, he remains lethargic. He spent hours resting in one spot, only to get up when I opened a can of food. To spare his energy, I carried him to the pet bed I keep on one side of the L-shaped desk in my home office (which is a converted third bedroom) while I worked. To keep his appetite active, I bought several cans of albacore tuna. He partially ate the cat food, but cleaned out the plate of tuna.

At this stage, the veterinarian says that what I feed him doesn’t matter. His dual conditions are advanced. The objective day by day now is to keep his appetite healthy, and do all I can to make sure his pain is minimal. I hope, when it is his time to go, he passes away peacefully and naturally. But I will not let him suffer, so if necessary I will call a veterinarian to the house for euthanasia, which is a difficult decision I have faced before, but one that is the last act of love a pet owner can make for his beloved friend.