Only 20 days after discovering Tarbaby's severe urinary tract infection I had to let him go. He spent 12 days in the kitty hospital and was medicated, pampered, adored, and loved. He got to come home for a few days but could not overcome his body's tendency for the urethra to clog, a common problem in older boy cats. He would only be eight next week, not so old, but I could not put him through any more painful procedures. Even though he was skittish around strangers, he charmed both vets and the techs who took care of him. He was more like having a toddler in the house than a cat--lovable, demanding, talkative. He will be sorely missed.
He loved to hang on the back of my office chair; he also liked to lie on his back with me supporting hi head so he could stretch out his long legs and groom himself. A favorite sleeping spot was up against a pillow on one of my quilts. When there were other voices in the house, he often retreated to a high place of safety. His shiny, solid black fur made him hard to photograph but I never quit trying. The girls, Elizabeth and Rahrah, are unaffected by his absence, enjoying their elevated status in the pecking order. Goodbye, Tarbaby.