Today we Mourn a Legend

Well the old bastard finally did it. He up and died on us. Tigger out.

In true Tigger fashion he went out in a blaze of extravagance. Dad let the cat out around 9:00 am for his daily prowl and when he let him back in at 12:00 pm for a refueling he noticed that one of his front paws was limp and dangling. Dad figured the cat had somehow managed to break his leg. The folks brought Tigger to the vet and were told that a blood clot developed in his leg. This clot would soon travel to his heart and there was really nothing that could be done about it. Even in the short time between letting the cat back into the house and arriving at the vet his condition had deteriorated. The vet said he probably wouldn't last another day. He was in a lot of pain so the decision was made to put him down.

I knew this would happen; I even said as much to my family before I left for the Philippines. I'm sad that he died, but more than anything, I'm just disappointed I never got to see him again. He was (by a large margin) the best cat we ever had. It's crazy to even think of a time when Tigger wasn't loafing around, kicking the shit out of other cats, or costing the folks more money than he was probably worth in surgeries and medications. In short, he was awesome.

At least he picked a good time to die. Dave and Andrea were taking care of him over Christmas while the folks were visiting my sister in Alberta. If he had of died during that week I'm pretty sure it would have traumatized Andrea. Racked with guilt over somehow unconsciously willing an embolism, she would become withdrawn and reflective. What could I have done differently? are we unfit caregivers? Was it the food? Her search would lead her to look in the bottom of a bottle for answers. After a few weeks of showing up to work shamefully drunk management would have no choice but to terminate her position. All of this pressure would put a strain on her marriage, eventually forcing Dave to file for divorce citing 'drunken lunatic' as the cause. So, I guess you could argue that Tigger really saved Dave and Andrea's marriage. That's just the kind of cat he was.

I'll end this with a few Tigger facts:

• He was gigantic.
• I was told he had, and I quote, "Excellent bone structure". Actually, one of the few worthwhile things that ever came out of Steph's mouth.
  
• He's had many nicknames over the years including Tiggs, Tiggy, Wigger, and my favorite That Fuckin Cat. Like his actual name, he responded to none.
• He nearly killed Pat on two separate occasions. The first day we brought him home was coincidentally the first time Pat slept over to my house. Pat was deathly allergic to cats and suffered through the night. Years later Pat stepped on his tail and the top of the kitchen stairs, an action Tigger never truly forgave him for. Bad blood remains to this day.
• He drank from the bathtub.
  
• I'm not entirely convinced he wasn't a guy in a suit.
• I loved him and will miss him.

I tried to give him a 'gas pedal' but was too slow.