Louis Epstein
2024-11-18 21:03:34 UTC
His official birthdate on file at the vet's was October 1,2008,
but that was long before my acquaintance with him.
Some time afterward,probably about 2010,he became the rescue cat
of Ilene Thompson,who I memorialized on alt.obituaries in 2021.
I met Ilene when we became colleagues on the local Democratic
committee,and met Mischa first and briefly when I visited her at
her former residence.
With the death of her former landlord his daughter wanted Ilene
(and thus Mischa) out and I rented a vacant apartment to her,
having more occasion to meet Mischa...Ilene eventually pronounced
me "the only man he ever purred for".
When she became hospitalized in 2021 I would visit the apartment to
feed Mischa,when he was not being boarded at facilities to or from
which I drove him.She had asked me to care for him,and when she died
her best friend/heiress/executor asked simply that when he died,his
ashes be given to be scattered where Ilene's had been.
I can not say that I measured up to his purrefurred standards of
can-opening and door-opening promptness but we respected each other
and his expurrtise at catwork was nonpurreil.
Ilene had been rather intensive in medical care provided to him,
but in the months of feeding him without giving him medication she
had been told he would need for the rest of his life after a heart
attack I saw no sign of illness,so I put off any care visits (not
forgetting my own limited finances).
Once a fat cat,he slimmed down,often leaving leftovers in his
food dish until I rinsed them out and replaced them...I certainly
never starved him however much he repurresented empty space in his
dish as a global crisis.
He had his way of pawtrolling the purremises purrovided to him,
and we largely stayed out of each other's way unless he wanted my
company,but concern for his feeding and whereabouts was a factor
in my life for recent years.I confined him a bit more than I should
have to keep him from getting into things,and didn't clean up after
him as much as I should have (he seemed to have a thing for making
messes [as do I] so I figured he could live with them).I hope he
forgave me that as I forgave every scratch and bite.
He got me to adopt Ilene's habit of leaving my bedroom door open,
so he could come in and go out at night as he pleased...he also
would spend time in my bed during days if allowed.
Some months ago he seemed ill for some days but recovered,but last
week this recurred.He continued to make his rounds of resting in
various places as best he could,but refused to eat and stayed still
longer.At times he made crying sounds for attention.After tending to
him through Friday,I took him to bed,he repositioned himself over
a while but eventually exited the room before I fell asleep,going
to wherever was next on his secret schedule.
The next morning,I looked for him,but he showed up to my sight
when he wanted to,returning from wherever he had rested most
recently to the guest bedroom where he spent most of his time,
and wound up on the big bed there.I called the veterinary office
and they agreed to see him,so I got him into a carrier and went
there.
They told me after examination with bloodwork that he was in kidney
and liver failure that was unlikely to respond to treatment and
suggested he be put to sleep on the spot,but I couldn't deal with
that,I didn't take him there to die.They gave him some fluid injection
to comfort him and contact info for 24/7 facilities where he could
receive intensive care,and I took him home in the carrier.
I had emailed the executor that he was sick,and now emailed her
that he didn't have much time but I would defer to her convenience
on end-of-life issues.
He repositioned himself in the carrier several times,engaged minimally
with a teaspoon of water I offered him,didn't bite at a sardine I
offered him to eat,but did put a possessive paw on it in a repositioning.
Not until after 10 PM did he choose to emerge from the carrier,hobbling
over to my feet where I was sitting,I petted him some times but not
invasively...he was making no audible complaints.
After some repositioning over an hour there I picked him up,saw he had
left a tiny puddle on the carpet,took him to a litterbox I had cleaned...
I hope he did not feel rejected by this.A while later he moved to just
outside the litterbox,then to under the adjacent bed.After I saw him
under there,I cleared a path to me through kicked-under-the-bed cans,
and he came out,I wanted him to know I was at his disposal every time
I checked up on him,but he chose to rest next in a nearby spot on the
floor.
Around 2 AM I was planning to go to bed and he was not in that spot,
I looked elsewhere to see if he had gone to my bedroom or what,did
not see him...I went to bed hoping to again find him after Sunday
sunrise if he did not join me.
Around 9 AM I looked around and finally went beyond where I had
last seen him,and around 2 corners where he had last been (into
a bathroom and a shower) I found he had died,already stiff...he
had checked out on his own terms.
I emailed the executor that he had died,and then as soon as the
vet opened today called them to arrange cremation...and emailed
the executor about that...finally called her on her work cellphone
today to find that she had pretty much stopped using the only email
I had for her (mine had changed too,so I hoped I wasn't spamfiltered).
I was his trustee rather than his owner,he won't be buried among
my own family's historic pets,but...
He'll be missed.
-=-=-
The World Trade Center towers MUST rise again,
at least as tall as before...or terror has triumphed.
but that was long before my acquaintance with him.
Some time afterward,probably about 2010,he became the rescue cat
of Ilene Thompson,who I memorialized on alt.obituaries in 2021.
I met Ilene when we became colleagues on the local Democratic
committee,and met Mischa first and briefly when I visited her at
her former residence.
With the death of her former landlord his daughter wanted Ilene
(and thus Mischa) out and I rented a vacant apartment to her,
having more occasion to meet Mischa...Ilene eventually pronounced
me "the only man he ever purred for".
When she became hospitalized in 2021 I would visit the apartment to
feed Mischa,when he was not being boarded at facilities to or from
which I drove him.She had asked me to care for him,and when she died
her best friend/heiress/executor asked simply that when he died,his
ashes be given to be scattered where Ilene's had been.
I can not say that I measured up to his purrefurred standards of
can-opening and door-opening promptness but we respected each other
and his expurrtise at catwork was nonpurreil.
Ilene had been rather intensive in medical care provided to him,
but in the months of feeding him without giving him medication she
had been told he would need for the rest of his life after a heart
attack I saw no sign of illness,so I put off any care visits (not
forgetting my own limited finances).
Once a fat cat,he slimmed down,often leaving leftovers in his
food dish until I rinsed them out and replaced them...I certainly
never starved him however much he repurresented empty space in his
dish as a global crisis.
He had his way of pawtrolling the purremises purrovided to him,
and we largely stayed out of each other's way unless he wanted my
company,but concern for his feeding and whereabouts was a factor
in my life for recent years.I confined him a bit more than I should
have to keep him from getting into things,and didn't clean up after
him as much as I should have (he seemed to have a thing for making
messes [as do I] so I figured he could live with them).I hope he
forgave me that as I forgave every scratch and bite.
He got me to adopt Ilene's habit of leaving my bedroom door open,
so he could come in and go out at night as he pleased...he also
would spend time in my bed during days if allowed.
Some months ago he seemed ill for some days but recovered,but last
week this recurred.He continued to make his rounds of resting in
various places as best he could,but refused to eat and stayed still
longer.At times he made crying sounds for attention.After tending to
him through Friday,I took him to bed,he repositioned himself over
a while but eventually exited the room before I fell asleep,going
to wherever was next on his secret schedule.
The next morning,I looked for him,but he showed up to my sight
when he wanted to,returning from wherever he had rested most
recently to the guest bedroom where he spent most of his time,
and wound up on the big bed there.I called the veterinary office
and they agreed to see him,so I got him into a carrier and went
there.
They told me after examination with bloodwork that he was in kidney
and liver failure that was unlikely to respond to treatment and
suggested he be put to sleep on the spot,but I couldn't deal with
that,I didn't take him there to die.They gave him some fluid injection
to comfort him and contact info for 24/7 facilities where he could
receive intensive care,and I took him home in the carrier.
I had emailed the executor that he was sick,and now emailed her
that he didn't have much time but I would defer to her convenience
on end-of-life issues.
He repositioned himself in the carrier several times,engaged minimally
with a teaspoon of water I offered him,didn't bite at a sardine I
offered him to eat,but did put a possessive paw on it in a repositioning.
Not until after 10 PM did he choose to emerge from the carrier,hobbling
over to my feet where I was sitting,I petted him some times but not
invasively...he was making no audible complaints.
After some repositioning over an hour there I picked him up,saw he had
left a tiny puddle on the carpet,took him to a litterbox I had cleaned...
I hope he did not feel rejected by this.A while later he moved to just
outside the litterbox,then to under the adjacent bed.After I saw him
under there,I cleared a path to me through kicked-under-the-bed cans,
and he came out,I wanted him to know I was at his disposal every time
I checked up on him,but he chose to rest next in a nearby spot on the
floor.
Around 2 AM I was planning to go to bed and he was not in that spot,
I looked elsewhere to see if he had gone to my bedroom or what,did
not see him...I went to bed hoping to again find him after Sunday
sunrise if he did not join me.
Around 9 AM I looked around and finally went beyond where I had
last seen him,and around 2 corners where he had last been (into
a bathroom and a shower) I found he had died,already stiff...he
had checked out on his own terms.
I emailed the executor that he had died,and then as soon as the
vet opened today called them to arrange cremation...and emailed
the executor about that...finally called her on her work cellphone
today to find that she had pretty much stopped using the only email
I had for her (mine had changed too,so I hoped I wasn't spamfiltered).
I was his trustee rather than his owner,he won't be buried among
my own family's historic pets,but...
He'll be missed.
-=-=-
The World Trade Center towers MUST rise again,
at least as tall as before...or terror has triumphed.