Brûlée 2003 - 2018

I don't know who it was, but somebody played the "everyone discard down to one cat" card. Several of my friends have lost cats this year, including one who started out the year with three cats and lost two.

Brûlée's appetite had been waning, but he was otherwise acting like himself. We tried some medications to improve his appetite, but they didn't seem to help. A couple weeks ago, my veterinarian performed an ultrasound. There was a lot that was normal, but a couple places in Brûlée's upper and lower small intestine were a little odd. We already knew he had some kidney insufficiency issues. The veterinarian suggested doing biopsy surgery. I let that thought sit for a couple weeks. Then, Brûlée definitely did not have a good day on Sunday. He didn't greet me at the bottom of the stairs, meowing his usual greeting of, "Chop, chop, human! I'm hungry! Get with it!" One of us would reward him with an egg toy full of treats. Since Brûlée was clearly feeling poorly, I decided to schedule him for the surgery on Tuesday.

While the surgery went well, recovery did not. There were underlying issues, especially with his liver. Instead of going into a long decline, Brûlée went quickly. That was like him, to decide he couldn't be the destructive chaotic criminal mastermind anymore, and say, "I am out of here!"

Cuddly Hubby and I said, "Goodbye," this afternoon.

The end of next month will mark a decade since I lost Copernicus. I didn't think I'd be back here again so soon. And Brûlée has definitely been the one waving the "Copernicus sent me" memo. He was always too smart for his own good. He had lots of enthusiasm, as if to say, "Ha, ha! I get to play the cat. Look at me! I'm climbing and scratching and attacking." He loved sticking his pointy bits in things. And while he could sometimes be annoying by knocking things over, eating plants, stepping places he maybe shouldn't, or rolling in things he shouldn't; I adored his enthusiasm for being himself. When he was happy — especially because someone was giving him skritches — he would roll over. Cuddly Hubby referred to this as "losing roll control." It was adorable behavior.

Brûlée also liked to spelunk. When he was frightened, he would crawl up underneath the couch cover. I eventually started leaving his cat bed on the couch with the Pendleton blanket draped across it, to form a nice tent. It was a favorite place for an afternoon nap. And I had to remind people to be careful before sitting on the couch. Look for the cat-shaped blob!

When the Cuddly Hubby got a temporary transfer home, he and Brûlée started a habit of the evening enrichment. Brûlée would get at one end of the downstairs hall. Cuddly Hubby would toss cat treats. Brûlée would smack them and eat them. Or the treat would get past him and be stuck underneath the gate; and he would give it an enthusiastic whack to dig it back out. Huzzah!

Brûlée was primarily the criminal mastermind of chaos and mischief and trouble, while Vincent was the patsy. My favorite memory is from years ago, when I heard a, "Thunk!" in the kitchen. I came around the corner from the den into the living room to see Brûlée quickly strike a nonchalant pose as if he had no idea what had happened. I went in the kitchen, and there was Vincent in the middle of the mess as if to say, "Brûlée, why do you want me to hold this smoking gun?"

If the purpose of life is to live in the moment — carpe diem — then Brûlée had that figured out. I referred to him as "The Great Brûlée" for his outsized personality. Our veterinarian called him "Mr. Beautiful" or "Hollywood" because he was beautiful and always perfectly groomed. He was such a metrosexual. For him, the look was key.

While I may be playing lawful good, Brûlée was playing chaotic neutral. He was "The Mighty Hunter" because he loved to catch cat toys. He especially enjoyed destroying feather toys or attacking foil balls. And he had a noticeably distinct meow that was his, "Look at me! I caught something! I'm so clever!" cry.

But mostly I called him my "Criminal Mastermind." In the end, he stole my heart.

He may have started out as Bruce's cat, but he ended up as mine. When the pair came to my house in that dreadful summer of 2009, I figured I would be replacing cats sometime between 2016 and 2020. So here we are, two days after the midterm election. I had hoped to get ten years with them. I got nine years and four months from Brûlée. Looking back at blog posts and photographs as I write this, I can see that Brûlée helped me heal.  He helped fill in the big gaping hole in my heart left by the departures of Copernicus and Sophie. Brûlée had personality elements of both. Both Cuddly Hubby and I have many photographs of Brûlée; his antics were such a regular occurrence. I'm so grateful he was part of my world for as long as he was.

And for those of you wondering, Vincent is still here, but not in great shape. This picture was taken just a few days ago, after Cuddly Hubby and I both returned from being away for five days. (I was at SAFF; Cuddly Hubby was at a college reunion.) We even boarded both cats with the veterinarian because of their health issues. Brûlée hopped up on the couch and spread out in my lap. Vincent climbed up on to the couch as well. They were both glad to see me. And I was delighted to sit and enjoy the company of my two precious feline companions. I'm thankful Cuddly Hubby captured this moment of the feline electron cloud in close orbitals. The pain is real, because the love is real.