Tuesday, October 28, 2025
-Bill Crane-
Now in the September of my years, I find that more and more of my thoughts and time are spent in introspection, revisiting old memories, good and bad, and occasionally wondering if I made the best choices. Friends and peers of my parents seem to be passing with such frequency that I am not always able to be there, something I prided myself on for many years…giving a presence for helping those who matter to us as they grieve their loss and begin a life without their loved one. My own recent dance and battle with cancer has made me more keenly aware on this front. The frequency of passing by my own peers and classmates has also been increasing, almost geometrically. This too comes with this time in our lives.
Both daughters and sisters of mine are animal lovers. As a child when traveling, my firstborn, Barclay, would introduce herself to strangers with… “I have six cats, two dogs, four fish, two frogs and a ferret.” Youngest daughter Olivia and her mother are both cat lovers, and Olivia has now had five living in her home throughout her 18 years.
Yet we humans still tend to outlive our pets, creating periodic times that we have to say goodbye. Most recently, Olivia’s gentle calico cat Chloe made her way to cat heaven. Periodic and severe challenges with kidney function were the main culprit. Chloe’s passing was preceded by the long goodbye for the very fragile Cocoa before her…
In my own home in Scottdale, GA, now since 2007, there have been four cats. Santa brought Bruno, a first for Olivia then in her pre-school years. When Tinkerbell arrived a few years later, also via Santa’s sleigh, Bruno treated the young kitten as if she was his own offspring. He seemed to like having the company, and young Tink would often sleep curled atop her adopted brother.
When stomach cancer later came for Bruno, it became clear that his remaining life would be a pained existence. After allowing Olivia a final visit, we took Bruno to the family vet for a long and final nap. I went to be with Bruno, as he sat calmly and quietly atop my lap, with an IV extending out from a shaved paw. The gentle and professional vet Tech administered the anesthesia, Bruno sat quietly, rubbed his head against my chest, looked up and then laid down completely, passing quietly a few moments later. I was surprised by how overcome I became, weeping in that vet office chair for what seemed like an hour.
Once tiny Tinkerbell is still with us, and another stray, Pink came to reside here at stately Crane Manor during the pandemic, but Pink (rhymes with Tink) always wanted to answer the call of the wild, so he would regularly look for the opportunity of an open or cracked front or back door to dart out into the larger world. Later that day or following morning, Pink would announce his return.
Pink darted out the front door once more a few years back, on a dark cold and rainy night. I was being a bit more cautious with the cold and rain during Covid, and I assumed he would be back by morning. I had forgotten about the recent entry of Coyotes into our area…
A loud series of cat screeches later broke through the rain and storm noise close to midnight, I went out to the front lawn with a flashlight, with nothing to be seen. By morning and in the light of day, I found a small and bloody chunk of flesh and hair, matching Pink’s coloring. We never saw Pink again…one for the coyotes…
I have made in hopefully my post-cancer life a renewed priority of visiting friends who are ailing in person. We never know what we don’t know and it is always good for those you love to know that you feel that way about them. I know Bruno felt that as he headed for cat heaven, he certainly gave me that feeling back. And I occasionally see a solid gray shorthair cat climbing my back stair, or curled up under outdoor furniture in cold weather, hot sun or rain…and my heart will rise briefly, thinking that Pink has made a long after ‘pet movie’ style return home.
But then reality sets in, and I just miss him instead. You see, I never had a chance to say goodbye.