But I didn't know that in 1990, and even if I had, I don't think it would have made a difference. Oliver was that pretty and that sweet.
Fred and I were newlyweds at the time, living in Fayetteville, North Carolina. My mom came up for a visit, and she and I happened to go into a pet store that had a litter of kittens. I fell in love with one long-haired baby boy and just couldn't say no. Mom and I still had shopping to do at the mall, so I paid for the cat (something like $15 minus a 10% military discount) and came back for him later, only to find out that several people had tried to buy him after I left. I was glad that I had already paid for him!
Fred and I named him Oliver, which then got shortened to Ollie. At some point, my dad dubbed him Ollie Boo Hopnoodle, from which we got Boo Boo.
He looked remarkably like a Maine coon, in spite of his bargain-basement price tag:
He grew into a handsome, strapping fellow who was almost always ready to accept a pet or a cuddle:
Unfortunately, traveling was not one of Oliver's strong suits. In fact, any trip with him was sure to turn into a technicolor demonstration of the multi-faceted digestive system . . . complete with smell-o-vision. So when we were faced with moving from the east coast to Hawaii, Oliver went to live with my parents in Florida.
He fit in quite nicely there, becoming an honorary "old lady" with their cats Celia and Lucy. When we returned to the mainland, Oliver stayed on with Mom and Dad, thus becoming our Florida cat.
His health declined steadily over the past couple of years. He developed diabetes and had been taking daily insulin shots for some time now. He had gradually lost almost half of his body weight, whining constantly for food yet turning his nose up at almost everything offered to him. We knew when we saw him this summer that this would probably be our last time together, so we took some final pictures:
By yesterday he had lost the ability to control his legs, so Mom and Dad had him euthanized at home. I'm told it was very peaceful, and I am grateful to them for not only providing him with such excellent care for most of the second half of his life but also for not prolonging the agony. He is buried in Annabelle's flower garden, which pleased Annabelle to hear.
I can't think of a good way to wrap this up, so I think I will close with the words of Koko the gorilla:
Soft good cat cat.
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