Bones

Box of Bones

I first met Bones on Carmel Valley Road in Monterey County. It was the Summer of 2001. Mom and I were driving south on the more barren part of the road descending down into the Arroyo Seco drainage. As we drove along an isolated stretch of the road crowded on both sides with thick, brown grasses we barely avoided running over two small, scrawny kittens who were loitering right on the edge of the pavement. We immediately commented to each other something along the lines of "did you see that?" and braked immediately and backed up a bit and got out to go try to get the two little pitiful creatures. We had little hope they wouldn't immediately bolt into the brush but we had nothing to lose and it seemed they had everything to lose.

The cutest thing then happened: as we got out of the car the somewhat larger kitten who was colored gray with a tinge of blue and was a bit healthier-looking but still in pitiful shape got up from a sitting position and started excitedly trotting towards us appearing surprised we had bothered stopping as others had clearly not done.
Immediately the other kitten, totally black, but in much worse shape and significantly smaller clingingly followed her. We were able to quickly scoop up both kittens without resistance and put them on the passenger-side front floor of mom's Ford Explorer. 

Our immediate intent was to take them home and care for them. Mom was driving and I was riding shotgun so it was up to me to look after the kittens. They both had grievously severe upper respiratory infections which caused them to have disgusting deposits of variously wet and scabby mucous deposits all over their faces but especially around their eyes and noses. They also were horribly dehydrated not to mention emaciated beyond relief from starvation and had lots of stickers stuck in their fur. It was heartbreaking to see how pitiful they were and to think they had been abandoned out there as there was no other explanation for their being there. At first, I had no desire to place water on the floor as it might slosh and make a mess. However, it was clear that both kittens, but particularly the black one was in serious trouble. Indeed, I was afraid it might die before we got home. Therefore, I placed a bit of water on the floor in some sort of receptacle and they drank of it with desperation and gratitude.

We got them home alive and as soon as possible got them to El Camino Veterinary Hospital in Atascadero, CA.
There they were cared for and rehabilitated and tested for FIV and FLV and found to be clean of those two diseases but they were suffering from serious upper respiratory infections and, unfortunately, had feline herpes for which there is no cure. For the remainder of their lives we could treat symptoms but not cure them entirely.
We found out the larger Russian Blue-looking one was a female although she really wasn't large but noticeably undersized from malnourishment and her smaller sibling was even more malnourished and was a male.

After they both came home some days thereafter they began to be accepted by our other cats although it was a process that took time. We named the female Carmel for Carmel Valley Road where we found them and we named him Bones as he was nothing but skin and bones when we found him and would remain skinny all his remaining life. We fell hopelessly in love them with them early on, probably on the way home with them from Carmel Valley Road. They were just so innocent in such a malevolent world, like feline Hansels and Gretels. They seemed to have no concept of danger or evil but were so trusting which bothered us even while it charmed us.
They were also so stoical as they never seemed to realize they were in bad shape or make any sort of feline equivalent of complaining about their situation.

The two of them were inseparable but so different. Carmel was larger and more aggressive (there is probably a connection there) and acted the part of the bossy, but protective older sister. Bones was always more sickly with near-constant upper respiratory infections and acted much more the part of the follower who clung to his sister. Consequently, she usually got her share of the cat food before he did and he got what she left behind although they always had enough to eat in our home. Carmel was the bravest little cat I've ever met who liked to aggressively confront things that frightened her, most notably, the vacuum cleaner for which she was mortified but she would frequently stalk it and attack it when I was operating it while cleaning the house. Bones on the other hand was not merely brave, but utterly fearless. Absolutely nothing fazed him, not other cats, not dogs, not automobiles, and certainly not Carmel's bete noir, the dreaded vacuum cleaner which he would act entirely unimpressed with as it operated right next to him until I had to physically move him out of its way to continue with what I was doing.

Carmel napping:

Both cats were irrepressible and relentless in anything they did. Carmel was a bit more outgoing and cheery with the sweetest disposition of any cat I've ever met. Bones was a bit more subdued and restrained as he often didn't feel so great, but was not less sweet-spirited. He had a bit of an edge to him in a Addams Family/Munsters sort of way. He was black and looked emaciated even when healthy due to his underdevelopment and often had upper respiratory problems which made him look somewhat like something resurrected from Steven King's Pet Cemetery and sound like a feline version of Darth Vader due to his heavy breathing although that breathing was nearly always interspersed with sneezing as well.

Bones in the kitchen:

Bones in a bowl.

He also had seemingly over-sized, bulbous, luminous yellow eyes which seemed to protrude from his head more than most cats which looked funny to me. He didn't like to fight and was in little position to successfully do that but he was oft wont to creep another cat out who was eating the wet cat food he so loved by sitting down next to it as it ate and just loom over it and stare at it with his scary eyes, unblinking and unafraid which made most cats quite uncomfortable and decide to leave. Carmel on the other hand was a bit larger but nonetheless undersized and she had a beautiful short, gray hair with a tinge of bluishness and was not nearly so sickly as Bones.

Bones had this cute little thing he used to do where he'd curl up in one of the sinks in the our big bathroom and sleep. Bones also liked to have me tug on his tail and pull up his rear end a couple of inches off the ground and turn him around with his front paws as the axis of motion which seemed to get him more jazzed and playful than anything else I could do.The stories about Bones go on and on and are more than I can reasonably cover here with some already faded from memory but many still with me. 

Carmel was hit by a car in 2003 right in front of the house while we were over at my place watching a Lakers game. She lingered for over a month needing to be rehydrated and fed as she refused to swallow anything for some inexplicable reason and so was finally put down the month following her injury which also took one of her eyes. Bones soldiered on without his sister and continued to work his way into our hearts to the point of becoming our child. Bones would always sleep atop mom at night, heavy breathing and stinky breath and sometimes bubbly mucous sniffles notwithstanding.

Throughout Bones' life he had ongoing upper respiratory problems which would need periodic treatments of antibiotic to knock it back down. Later in life we became aware that he had a problem with the autoimmune disease stomatitus which caused inflammations of his gums and throat. Last month his stomatitus got out of control again and consequently his upper respiratory infection took advantage of his weakened immune system and he got very sick. We decided to have the vet remove his teeth as a last resort, something that had worked wonders for another cat we own. The vet advised that Bones was not well enough to have the procedure done until he was stabilized.

Therefore, on May 29, 2008, before leaving town we left Bones in the care of El Camino Veterinary Hospital so that when he got well enough while we were out of town the procedure would be accomplished. The next day we all went out on a rockhounding excursion into Lake and Napa Counties to the area around the Homestake Gold Mine. On the way back to her motel room later in the day, mom called the vet's office and asked about Bones.
Cryptically, the gal in the front office ominously told her to hold while the vet was summoned. When Dr. Miller picked up the phone she explained to mom that quite unexpectedly Bones had tragically died. Mom was stunned and stung as was I when I heard the news. Our little cute, fuzzy, black, sickly, skinny, irrepressible Bones was gone forever. We buried Bones next to his sister in mom's front yard. We planted a red plum tree over them whose leaves the deer keep eating.

Life goes on now but the home doesn't feel the same.
Bones left a vacuum that may never be filled.
Several other cats belonging to us have died in recent years, about eight in all.
That leaves only Willy and Buster and Smokey and Tommy now with Puffy and Rudy having drifted away.

Mom put it this way and I have to agree, "Bones was a little cat who was very big."