The Brave and Beautiful Rowdy Carnes
April 1, 1996 - April 10, 2012

Scott and I had Rowdy euthanized yesterday in our home as he lay in my lap at the end of the couch -- his favorite spot. Rowdy had been in decline for months, wasting away from a robust 14 lb. last year to a skin-and-bones 8 lb. when I took him to the vet on Monday to check his weight and the ping pong ball-sized tumor was finally detected. It had blocked his entire GI tract. He had just turned 16 years old.

It goes without saying that I'm utterly devastated. I knew this day would come, and Scott and I were about as prepared for it as we would ever be. After his visit to the vet on Monday, he was in the worst pain I have seen to date. What makes his death (and life) so moving is how close he and Scott were.

Rowdy liked people in general, but he loved men. I don't know what it was, but he always warmed up to males quicker than females. And there is no one he warmed up quicker to than Scott. It truly was love at first site, and from then on, he was "Daddy's Little Buddy."

I acquired Rowdy from a co-worker in 1999 when he was three years old. Getting a pet was the last thing I wanted at the time; I was new to Charlotte and wasn't sure I was even going to stay. I wanted to keep my life portable. But she was as determined as a used car salesman. She was pregnant with twins and allergic to her two cats, so on doctor's orders, she had to find them new homes. I took him in on the condition that if it didn't work out, I could return him.

She knew he found a new home.

I never considered myself a "cat person," but there was something about Rowdy that changed that forever. A big part of it was that he saw me through some very lonely, rough days. But a bigger part of it was his personality. I always told people that, "There isn't an aloof bone in Rowdy's body," and it was true. While most cats are notorious for never coming when called, Rowdy would ALWAYS cross a room for a head scratch. The minute Scott and I crawled into bed at night, Rowdy would jump on the bed and put himself square between us. I can't count the number of times Scott or I would say from another room, "Will you come look at this cat?" and he'd be laying luxuriously on a couch or bed launching "cute missiles." When Scott and I came home from being out, Scott would walk in the other room and I'd hear a big sigh, and there Row was, contently lying there practically ordering us to pet him. And we always, always did.

Needless to say, Rowdy is what made our house a home, and what made our threesome a family. We don't have kids. We're getting married in a month, and with each us being in our 40s, we don't know if our family unit will ever include children. Maybe our lives are meant to be a little quieter, our family a little smaller, but it will always include a furry companion who will be an equal presence in our little house.

We are staying home from work today to grieve and remember. The litter box is gone; the pet carrier, bed, brushes and toys are packed away; and we're donating the untouched bag of litter and food to Second Harvest for families who struggle feeding and caring for their kitties. I made two bowls for Rowdy's food and water in a pottery class, and we're going to put them in our yard and use them as pots for plants. We're also going to buy a perennial plant or flower and plant it in our yard in his memory.

Yesterday, after the vet left and took Rowdy's body to be cremated, we started packing his things away to lessen the pain of visual reminders. I was fine until I got to the refrigerator for a glass of tea and saw his just-opened can of food. I was flooded with reminders of how I was his Mama, who fed him expensive food to control his stomatitis, how I had his teeth removed and (hopefully) extended his life by a few years, and how whenever I came home, I picked him up and he gave me a "cat hug."

When we are ready to look for another feline companion, we will pick the one who gives great cat hugs. They are the best, most wonderful things in the world.

Goodbye, my brave, beautiful, strong boy.