Nick never liked people food much, despite his early fondness for cream and pate. Sometimes Nick would come around when we were eating not to beg for food but to beg for affection. Early on he developed the “fainting cat trick” which consisted of his falling over on his side in a most beguiling way that made you just have to pet him. He would also get up on his hind legs and sort of reach out with one paw—also very beguiling. The vet recommended Science Diet and that’s what we gave him. Don introduced putting treats on top, like a cherry on top of a sundae. On Saturday nights we gave each cat a little can of Fancy Feast. Nick preferred the salmon flavor or at least something fishy.

Sometime Don would pick Nick up to pet him. Actually Nick didn’t like it too much but he “allowed” it. Nick would tuck his head into the crook of Don’s arm while the petting lasted. Then he would jump down and rearrange his fur by twitching as though he had to readjust his clothes from being man handled.

Nick loved to sit with you whenever you sat down. He especially liked to sit with me when I was at the computer or working at my desk. It wasn’t always convenient, but I tried to accommodate him. Several months ago I was sitting on the hearth in the family room talking to Jimmy on the telephone. I had turned on the gas logs to take away the chill. I had neglected to close the protective metal curtains, however. Nick jumped up and circled around behind me, then yelped and streaked away. His plume of a tail had been singed. I chased him and brushed off the singed fur. It didn’t seem to have hurt him seriously, except that it was serious blow to his dignity. After that, his plume looked rather pointed as though it had been sharpened.

For a long time Nick liked to visit me in my bathroom in the morning as I got dressed. I would keep catnip in a plastic bag underneath the basin and give him some. It wasn’t long before he sniffed out the bag and would get it out himself. He loved catnip as well as cat grass. He also liked to rearrange any fresh flowers. Don and I made up this fantasy that he wanted to be a florist when he grew up. Whenever I brought in flowers from the garden to arrange, he was right there, up on the kitchen counter, helping me.

Last November we took him to the vet because he was sneezing and coughing. It sounded like he had asthma. The vet diagnosed him with some sort of bronchial problem and gave him an antibiotic, Clavamox. We administered it with a dropper a.m. and p.m. He hated it but it seemed to help him. The vet said this was a chronic condition and that it would come and go for the rest of his life. Nick’s top weight had been 13 pounds. In November, 2003, he weighed 12 pounds. The vet also ran a huge set of tests--$600 worth. On May 19, having observed Nick looking miserable and listening to an increase in the sneezing and coughing, I took Nick back to the vet. I saw the younger one who said that Nick had an infection in his throat with thick flem. By this time Nick weighed about 10 pounds. The vet again prescribed Clavamox but said we would have to administer it for two weeks. He only gave me a week’s supply however, because once mixed, it goes bad quickly even if kept in the fridge. Nick hated the medicine and hated being hunted and grabbed every morning and night. With each day we gave the medicine, he seemed to get worse, eating very little and looking very scraggly. I asked Kay Schlumpf at work (an animal fancier) what to do and she suggested really smelly cat food. I tried that, with only minimal success. Nick just did not want to eat. When the week was up, (May 26 or 27) I took him back to the vet and this time saw the older one, Dr. Miller. He said Nick looked anemic and took some blood for analysis but then said he was OK that he just must have been afraid. He told me that the throat infection seemed to be gone and to not give anymore Clavamox. He said if he wasn’t better to bring him in on Saturday, May 29, before the Memorial Day holiday. So I brought him home but he did not get any better. He was weak and dispirited. Rosa seemed to pick on him more. I tried to pet and groom him and give him special attention and special foods, but nothing seemed to help. Don took him back to see Dr. Miller on Saturday, May 29. The vet said he was constipated and gave him an enema. Nick came home very upset. As the vet had predicted, he had a number of “accidents” and look pretty bad. Throughout the Memorial Day holiday, Nick got weaker and weaker.

On Sunday night, Jimmy petted him and talked to him. Nick had been sitting and staring at his water bowl. With Jimmy’s encouragement, Nick drank some water. Later, upon reflection, I remembered that Nick craved affection more than food. In the morning I warmed some milk and got him to drink a little. I spent more time petting and talking to him with the water bowl in front of him. Sometimes he would drink. By this time he hadn’t eaten in days.

Finally last night, May 31, about 10:30 p.m. I looked at Nick and realized he was not going to live though the night. He couldn’t even stand. I called the emergency vet number that our vet had on the answering machine. Both Lisa and Jim volunteered to go with me but we decided that it would be better if Lisa stayed with the baby. Don was already in bed and I did not want to disturb him. The vet was in Buffalo Grove and was much more professional and up-to-date than our vet. The specific vet who helped us was a woman. She was very compassionate. Once when the vet was out of the room and Nick was on the table, he sort of nosed my hand, in that way that kitties do as a sign of affection. As weak as he was, he loved me and showed it and was grateful for my attention to him.

They did some x-rays and some other tests. His stomach was much distended and filled with fluid. The vet drew off some of the fluid, saying it should be straw colored. It looked like pure blood. She said Nick had some sort of bleeding mass, probably a tumor or a cancer. Upon reflection I remembered that Nick had, over the last 9 months or so, begun to not like for me to scratch or comb the hair on his stomach. He wouldn’t even show me his stomach much. No more fainting cat trick. And sometimes he would cry out if I combed him on the stomach. After some consultation with Jimmy, I decided to have Nick put to sleep. The vet said it was a good idea and that he was very, very weak and even some oxygen had not revived him much. So I held Nick while he was euthanized. It was very quick and very peaceful. We took him home in a box wrapped in clean towels. This morning, Don dug a grave in the back garden and we laid him to rest. He had spent many happy hours in the sun gazing at the garden so it was a suitable place for him