Two weeks ago, I lost my precious Benny to congestive heart failure. Benny was sixteen. For a cat, he had a long life, but it is always so hard to let go. I had hoped Benny would be one of those cats that lived to 21 (the equivalent of 100 in people years). I wanted to grow old with Benny because he had mastered the art of growing old gracefully. I have learned so many lessons from my pets. Each one seems to teach me how to be a better human being, and Benny is no different.
After my one-eyed, three-legged cat Clio passed away, we adopted Jackson (a stray) and Benny (who was a three-year old cat from the animal shelter). The staff at the animal shelter realized Benny was special, and although older cats are often deemed unadoptable by overcrowded shelters, the staff tried their best to find a home for him. He spent time in a foster home, and everyone who came in contact with Benny would say how smart and sweet he was. He had a good relationship with other cats and dogs and seemed full of life. Even when he was confined to a cage in PetSmart, he occupied his time by trying to catch a small gnat that had made its way into his cage. In fact, it was his fascination with the gnat that indicated to us that he was an intelligent cat and one who was not going to be content sleeping away his days.
When we first brought Benny home to meet Jackson, Jackson would have nothing to do with him so we separated them for a few weeks. While Benny was confined to a bedroom in our house, he kept busy tossing toys in the air and then running after them. When we finally let him out of the bedroom to work it out with Jackson, Jackson wanted nothing to do with him. Benny didn’t care. He went about playing, running, and watching birds. Soon Jackson made up with Benny, and they became best friends. In fact, as Benny lay dying on the last day of his life, Jackson wouldn’t leave his side.
Benny loved Jackson, too, and showed me that you never abandon a friend. Once when Jackson jumped on our flat top stove and burned his paws, Benny spent the days after we brought Jackson back from the vet by his side. When we brought a third cat into our home (Trixie), Benny would not allow Trixie to bully Jackson.
In many ways, Benny was the perfect cat-dog. Benny was loyal but always willing to make another friend. Like a dog, he would fetch toys that you gave him. He would greet us when we returned from work or running errands. Although he wasn’t a lap cat, he would always sit next to us (or between us) when we were relaxing and watching television and would always join us in bed in the evening.
To Benny, everything was a toy and for a cat, he lived life to the fullest. He was in incredible shape and up until just a few months before he passed, Jackson and he would run through the house at top speed. Although Benny had plenty of cat toys, he viewed everything as a toy. When I flossed my teeth, he would try and play with the dental floss. He would grab my make up brush off the counter and run through the house with it. I found that when I would pick up my pajamas after coming out of the shower, he would try to grab them and play with them.
As I grew older, I realized that Benny was the perfect companion and teacher. Up until a month or so before he became sick, he was in seemingly good health. Then, just before Christmas, Benny collapsed and we rushed him to an emergency vet clinic that fortunately had a cardiologist on staff. They diagnosed him with congestive heart failure, and his right ventricle was not working at all. According to the cardiologist, he had the worst form of congestive heart failure. After two days in the hospital, he seemed to recover. Although he didn’t quite have the energy he had before, he still played with his favorite toys and enjoyed walking around the house. The drugs seemed to be working. However, the disease progressed faster than we thought, and despite additional drugs, Benny started failing fast. He would have to pause two or three times when walking just a few feet. Benny stopped eating (and even appetite stimulants didn’t work). Just as Benny had lived his life on his terms, he decided to go out on his terms. If he couldn’t live life to the fullest as a cat, then he saw no need to go on. He died at home next to his adopted brother and sister and my husband and I who loved him dearly.
Even with the two other cats, the house seems empty because of Benny’s larger-than-life personality. However, as I grow older, I am struck by the lessons I’ve learned from him. He taught me to not let age slow you down, live life to the fullest, be a loyal friend, and when the end is near, go out on your terms. What valuable lessons for all of us! Benny enriched our lives, and although we miss him terribly, we are so glad he was a part of our lives.
