We have been very blessed to have had Bunky in our lives for the last 14 years.
We got him from a small rescue, KISS (Kitties in need of Someone Special) in September 2007 when he was only seven weeks old. He was a lilac point- Siamese mix, who someone ludicrously had named Brandy Alexander! We took him and his new sister (aka Smidget) home, and proceed to ferret out his REAL cat name—Bunky, (short for rambunctious!)
He was all that and more. Funny, happy, energetic, and just a wee bit daft, he never failed to make us laugh and fill our hearts. He and Smidget managed their introduction to our other cats with intensity along with more than a soupçon of grace.
Bunky had boundless energy. Which he managed to draw on even though he had more medical issues than all of our cats combined. When he was around six, he developed a kidney stone. Assured by the veterinarian that he would pass it, we checked him into an animal hospital two days before Christmas. But it didn’t pass. Instead it tore into his urethra. On Christmas Day, after the first film of our annual Christmas Day blitz, we received a call from the vet to come quickly. We were asked what we wanted to do as the stone wouldn’t pass—we could either put Bunky to sleep or have much of his penis removed. Not great options. Without hesitation we chose the latter.
I don’t know if Bunky knew his penis was missing—he certainly never let on that he did. And for the first two weeks after the surgery, when he had to be quarantined and couldn’t be with other cats, I would come home after work, sit in the basement holding him on my lap, as we watched television together, nodding off in the warmth from the boiler nearby.
He loved having his back, in the place right near his tail, patted really hard. Slapped is a more accurate term, I suppose. I mean REALLY hard. Over and over again, until he would collapse giddily on his back and roll around the floor.
Bunky knew that Mommy would do that—Daddy never. But that didn’t change the fact that Bunky was totally Daddy’s boy. David was the sun, moon and stars to Bunky. Bunky was Daddy’s doggie. If David walked around the bed, Bunky would walk around the perimeter of the bed following him. Bunky slept on David’s belly, on his shoulder, between his legs—he just couldn’t get enough of David. I must have, no exaggeration – a thousand pictures of Bunky sleeping on David. When David was in the hospital, Bunky was lost. I was there, but Bunky didn’t care – David wasn’t. Bunky paced the floors- prowling around looking for him. When David came home, Bunky immediately went to regain his rightful place on David’s stomach—but the surgery had made that difficult. So rather than having his whole body on David, he compromised by lying next to David, and just resting his head on David’s chest. The first two weeks of recuperation this was a regular occurrence- Bunky somewhat dozing as he guarded over David.
Three months ago, when masses were found in Bunky’s stomach, we were told that he had between two weeks and two months. David gave him medicine from syringe every day, and although we know it didn’t taste good, Bunky was a real trooper about it. We are so grateful for the extra month Bunky was with us.
Three weeks ago, he was shakey on his legs, staggering, and looking for a corner to hide in the kitchen. We took him to the hospital fearing the worst, yet the doctors were able to give him some things that bought us more time. But yesterday he stopped eating, again weak on his legs, and tried to hide behind the washer machine. We got him out, put him in his bed, and took him into the bed with us. Throughout the night I would reach for him to see how he was doing—and at 5:00 am this morning, I felt him hyperventilating. We took him to the hospital where we stroked his head as we said goodbye.
And I promised him, when we meet again , he will have the place of honor on David’s belly—forever.
We love you Bunky, and we always will.
