Harry

Harrison Buttlicker passed away Wednesday during dental surgery. His heart just stopped. He was a wonderful kitty, loving, a loud purring fuzzit. Poor old guy had arthritis, and was limping around the house. He wouldn’t use the stairs up to the bed, so I stopped lifting him up with me, it hurt him when he jumped down. He pooped next to the box and not in it, now and then he’d go in random places on the floor. He went on the cat bed next to me once. He was diabetic, two shots a day, and if I traveled, he had to be boarded. He only liked soft food, so his teeth were bad. At 17, I knew there was a risk, but his teeth were so bad it was necessary. The vet assured me they would take every precaution, and I know they did, but he was too old. (Still freaking expensive).

He was a tiny starving kitten, all head and bones, when I got him. Desi and I were in PetCo, and two college girls came in with this scrap of cat. They had found him near Weber State, on Harrison Boulevard. Hence the Harry. I agreed to take him, and I still had bottles on hand, so I bought formula and added him to the family. He never went outside, hated going to the vet, and was definitely my cat. He got to be a big boy, over 18 pounds! Good old Harry, I will miss you, but am glad you are not hurting.

I will have a glass cat made with a bit of his cremains.



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