My heart kitty was the pick of the litter out of five Cornish Rex kittens. I chose well. At the time we still had Kit and Max. Kit was his Daddy's boy and Max, well, he just loved everyone and didn't play favorites. Buckles was mine, and I was his.
I named my purr baby Bucky, after Texas A&M quarterback, Bucky Richardson. Somehow he became Buckles and then we started calling him Beekles. Out of our family, he chose me to be his. He didn't want to hang out with Kit and Max, and would stay by me and follow me throughout the house. He would meet me at the door when I came home. Beekles didn't really care for anyone else in the house, but would tolerate them. He didn't like males much. He didn't want my husband, son, or any other guy around me. He would come jump in my lap, if he wasn't there already, if I was approached, and would rub his head on me hard. "Mine!" I guess he thought it was his job to protect me. If any other cat hopped up in my lap, Beekles would bite them in the butt. That was his lap. We always got a laugh out of that. Such a possessive kitty.
Beekles always wanted to be with me. I would carry him around like a baby, up against my shoulder or cradle him with tum rubs. He wouldn't let anyone else in the house pick him up. He loved to have his paws rubbed, especially between his long toes. Beekles also loved to have his fangs rubbed. They were pretty long. Somehow, he broke one and ended up getting a root canal.
Beekles was about a year or so old when we found out he had a heart murmur. We had him under care with a cat only veterinarian. He did well for some years, but then one night he cried out and fainted. He was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy and would go on meds.. He recovered and would get regular scans of his heart for the rest of his life. We almost lost Beekles a few times, and would have to race to get him to the Vet hospital. I was told he probably wouldn't make it, but he somehow pulled through. This was two years before I lost my husband. When Mike died, I asked Beekles just to give me one more year, as I couldn't lose them both. He was a few weeks shy of giving me two years.
Beekles hated going to the vet and would hide his head high under my arm so nobody would see him, or so he thought. His last trip to the vet was two days before he died. He had left me so many times before and kept battling back. This time he didn't get well. He as almost 16 years old and was tired. I knew it was his time to go. I couldn't let him suffer just to stay with me. There was no way I could take him to his vet and walk away without him, and he would've been so afraid. I found a vet who would come to our house. Beekles passed peacefully in our comfy chair. My purr baby would have been 16 years old in four months. He gave me so many years of love. I miss him.
Thank you Rosie Mooch for sponsoring my beloved Beekles.
I named my purr baby Bucky, after Texas A&M quarterback, Bucky Richardson. Somehow he became Buckles and then we started calling him Beekles. Out of our family, he chose me to be his. He didn't want to hang out with Kit and Max, and would stay by me and follow me throughout the house. He would meet me at the door when I came home. Beekles didn't really care for anyone else in the house, but would tolerate them. He didn't like males much. He didn't want my husband, son, or any other guy around me. He would come jump in my lap, if he wasn't there already, if I was approached, and would rub his head on me hard. "Mine!" I guess he thought it was his job to protect me. If any other cat hopped up in my lap, Beekles would bite them in the butt. That was his lap. We always got a laugh out of that. Such a possessive kitty.
Beekles always wanted to be with me. I would carry him around like a baby, up against my shoulder or cradle him with tum rubs. He wouldn't let anyone else in the house pick him up. He loved to have his paws rubbed, especially between his long toes. Beekles also loved to have his fangs rubbed. They were pretty long. Somehow, he broke one and ended up getting a root canal.
Beekles was about a year or so old when we found out he had a heart murmur. We had him under care with a cat only veterinarian. He did well for some years, but then one night he cried out and fainted. He was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy and would go on meds.. He recovered and would get regular scans of his heart for the rest of his life. We almost lost Beekles a few times, and would have to race to get him to the Vet hospital. I was told he probably wouldn't make it, but he somehow pulled through. This was two years before I lost my husband. When Mike died, I asked Beekles just to give me one more year, as I couldn't lose them both. He was a few weeks shy of giving me two years.
Beekles hated going to the vet and would hide his head high under my arm so nobody would see him, or so he thought. His last trip to the vet was two days before he died. He had left me so many times before and kept battling back. This time he didn't get well. He as almost 16 years old and was tired. I knew it was his time to go. I couldn't let him suffer just to stay with me. There was no way I could take him to his vet and walk away without him, and he would've been so afraid. I found a vet who would come to our house. Beekles passed peacefully in our comfy chair. My purr baby would have been 16 years old in four months. He gave me so many years of love. I miss him.
Thank you Rosie Mooch for sponsoring my beloved Beekles.
My heart kitty was the pick of the litter out of five Cornish Rex kittens. I chose well. At the time we still had Kit and Max. Kit was his Daddy's boy and Max, well, he just loved everyone and didn't play favorites. Buckles was mine, and I was his.
I named my purr baby Bucky, after Texas A&M quarterback, Bucky Richardson. Somehow he became Buckles and then we started calling him Beekles. Out of our family, he chose me to be his. He didn't want to hang out with Kit and Max, and would stay by me and follow me throughout the house. He would meet me at the door when I came home. Beekles didn't really care for anyone else in the house, but would tolerate them. He didn't like males much. He didn't want my husband, son, or any other guy around me. He would come jump in my lap, if he wasn't there already, if I was approached, and would rub his head on me hard. "Mine!" I guess he thought it was his job to protect me. If any other cat hopped up in my lap, Beekles would bite them in the butt. That was his lap. We always got a laugh out of that. Such a possessive kitty.
Beekles always wanted to be with me. I would carry him around like a baby, up against my shoulder or cradle him with tum rubs. He wouldn't let anyone else in the house pick him up. He loved to have his paws rubbed, especially between his long toes. Beekles also loved to have his fangs rubbed. They were pretty long. Somehow, he broke one and ended up getting a root canal.
Beekles was about a year or so old when we found out he had a heart murmur. We had him under care with a cat only veterinarian. He did well for some years, but then one night he cried out and fainted. He was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy and would go on meds.. He recovered and would get regular scans of his heart for the rest of his life. We almost lost Beekles a few times, and would have to race to get him to the Vet hospital. I was told he probably wouldn't make it, but he somehow pulled through. This was two years before I lost my husband. When Mike died, I asked Beekles just to give me one more year, as I couldn't lose them both. He was a few weeks shy of giving me two years.
Beekles hated going to the vet and would hide his head high under my arm so nobody would see him, or so he thought. His last trip to the vet was two days before he died. He had left me so many times before and kept battling back. This time he didn't get well. He as almost 16 years old and was tired. I knew it was his time to go. I couldn't let him suffer just to stay with me. There was no way I could take him to his vet and walk away without him, and he would've been so afraid. I found a vet who would come to our house. Beekles passed peacefully in our comfy chair. My purr baby would have been 16 years old in four months. He gave me so many years of love. I miss him.
Thank you Rosie Mooch for sponsoring my beloved Beekles.
I named my purr baby Bucky, after Texas A&M quarterback, Bucky Richardson. Somehow he became Buckles and then we started calling him Beekles. Out of our family, he chose me to be his. He didn't want to hang out with Kit and Max, and would stay by me and follow me throughout the house. He would meet me at the door when I came home. Beekles didn't really care for anyone else in the house, but would tolerate them. He didn't like males much. He didn't want my husband, son, or any other guy around me. He would come jump in my lap, if he wasn't there already, if I was approached, and would rub his head on me hard. "Mine!" I guess he thought it was his job to protect me. If any other cat hopped up in my lap, Beekles would bite them in the butt. That was his lap. We always got a laugh out of that. Such a possessive kitty.
Beekles always wanted to be with me. I would carry him around like a baby, up against my shoulder or cradle him with tum rubs. He wouldn't let anyone else in the house pick him up. He loved to have his paws rubbed, especially between his long toes. Beekles also loved to have his fangs rubbed. They were pretty long. Somehow, he broke one and ended up getting a root canal.
Beekles was about a year or so old when we found out he had a heart murmur. We had him under care with a cat only veterinarian. He did well for some years, but then one night he cried out and fainted. He was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy and would go on meds.. He recovered and would get regular scans of his heart for the rest of his life. We almost lost Beekles a few times, and would have to race to get him to the Vet hospital. I was told he probably wouldn't make it, but he somehow pulled through. This was two years before I lost my husband. When Mike died, I asked Beekles just to give me one more year, as I couldn't lose them both. He was a few weeks shy of giving me two years.
Beekles hated going to the vet and would hide his head high under my arm so nobody would see him, or so he thought. His last trip to the vet was two days before he died. He had left me so many times before and kept battling back. This time he didn't get well. He as almost 16 years old and was tired. I knew it was his time to go. I couldn't let him suffer just to stay with me. There was no way I could take him to his vet and walk away without him, and he would've been so afraid. I found a vet who would come to our house. Beekles passed peacefully in our comfy chair. My purr baby would have been 16 years old in four months. He gave me so many years of love. I miss him.
Thank you Rosie Mooch for sponsoring my beloved Beekles.
