Goodbye Uncle Boo

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It was a stormy afternoon in August of 1996 and Jo and I were having our first argument in our new apartment. The garbage needed to be taken out and Jo had asked me several times to do so. I kept putting it off, the garbage kept smelling worse and worse, Jo kept getting more and more irritated and the storm outside kept getting more and more intense. Finally, after having enough of my procrastination, Jo grabbed up the garbage and headed out into the rain towards the dumpster. I thought to myself “Fine!” When she did not return right away I thought that she may be attempting to make me worry on purpose. After more time passed I was truly worried. As I headed for the door, Jo entered with a big smile and something wrapped up in her shirt. “Look what I found!” she said in a mischievous and joyful tone. I peered through her arms to see a pathetic ball of wet orange and white fur.

“Is it alive?” I thought and may have said out loud.

“His mommy abandoned him. He was stuck in a bush by the dumpster”, said Jo.

“I will never neglect to take the garbage out again. Ever.”
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We refused to name the kitten for several weeks because we kept telling ourselves that we were going to find him a home elsewhere. We were lying to ourselves. We knew it. We turned people down who would have provided perfectly good homes for various stupid reasons.
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“Taco? They want to name him Taco?”
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“Yes. Or Burrito.”
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“I don’t think so. He’s not a Taco or a Burrito. I guess we’ll have to keep him a little longer.”
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Needless to say, we ended up keeping the orange and white cat. We named him Bourbon after our love for New Orleans and the city where we would eventually get married.

Bourbon grew big and strong.. and smart. Bourbon was not like other cats. When he looked at you, he was really looking at you. Empathizing after a bad day, he would often make a special effort to bring you comfort or give you your space if you preferred to be alone. Whichever was the case, he never missed an opportunity to let Jo and I know that he was glad when we returned home. He also didn't fall for some of the silly tricks that other cats would fall for. Laser pointers for example; he knew the light was coming from the device I was holding. Instead of chasing the red dot like other cats, he would just stare at my hand.. or lovingly attack it. When in a playful mood, he would also bite my toes just as I was about to fall asleep and he took great pleasure in raiding the laundry pile and scattering the sorted clothing to all parts of the house. Many times I would catch him red-pawed and his response was to drop the garment and run for cover under the nearest piece of furniture.

We chose to bring Bourbon into our home and both Jo and I always felt as if Bourbon understood that and remained eternally grateful. At the same time, Bourbon always managed to maintain a certain regal dignity that made us feel equally fortunate to share our home with him.

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Bourbon lived for two years after we brought River home. River adored him immediately. Bourbon, who was by then a senior cat, was cautious at first but soon warmed to her. He had never been around a "two-legger" that was so near to his height and he found it alarming at first. River never tired of trying to win over "Uncle Boo" and eventually she accomplished her goal.
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Last Thursday night Bourbon suffered a stroke that left him blind and partially paralyzed and his condition continued to deteriorate further from there. He had been in the process of being treated for sudden weight loss and, earlier that day, had received a steroid injection to stimulate his appetite. Jo and I made the decision to end his suffering quickly. Bourbon had always been a strong, independent and robust cat. To exist any other way would not have been his wishes.

River has asked many times where Uncle Boo is and our response to her questions have been that he was sick and has gone to live with Jesus in Heaven. River has not asked us to elaborate at this time.

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We were blessed to have Bourbon in our home for 13 years. To us he was not merely a cat but a tiny lion who roamed the rooms of our house with grace and majesty. He was a loyal companion and great friend. He was the king of our jungle and our hearts are broken with his absence.

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Bourbon Louis Lafitte
August 1996 - December 16, 2009

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