When my 17 year old calico passed away I had a hole in my heart needing to be filled. I went to the local shelter determined to save an older cat. A grey tabby named Sandy clearly chose me, but it was a little black feral, around 4 months old, who stole my heart. So both came home with me that day. We named the feral Bosco, because in sunlight his coat looked chocolate brown instead of black.
Bosco spent the first few days hiding, coming out only to eat and use the litter box. But Sandy pulled him out of his shell, becoming his "mommy." He'd curl up with her and let her groom him. It took a lot of love and TLC on my part, but over time he warmed up to me and my partner, rolling over on the floor for belly rubs. When Sandy passed we got 2 girl kitties to keep him company.
While he never became a lap cat, and didn't like to be picked up, for some reason he felt safe when we were in bed. He'd jump on the bed, purring loudly in my ear and licking my arm demanding to be petted. If I ignored him he'd head butt us, and then make biscuits in my long hair. He would walk over, and even ON, Dave's head to get in between us. He'd then go to sleep there, and stay the entire night. If one of us got up in the night to use the bathroom, Bosco would immediately slide into that person's spot, forcing us to have to move him, as if he was saying "this is MY entire bed."
3 years ago he was diagnosed with several health issues, including renal problems. So I had to give him sub-Q fluids daily, and several meds. He tolerated it, but not happily. Other than that he was still my baby boy.
Bosco crossed the Rainbow Bridge on Easter Sunday at the ripe old age of 18 1/2. My heart is broken as there will never be a boy like Bosco.
Tampa, FL
