Jillian Chantal

Names and nicknames: Hobbes- Hobster Lobster, Shadrach, Shazzer, Fur Face, Hobbie Lobbie, sweet Babboo, Bubba, Sweetie Petie, Pete,  Pistol Pete.

Hobbes came into our lives on December 28, 2012. He was a character from the beginning. When we (my two sons and girlfriend of the oldest) went to the shelter to look at adoption of a cat for my birthday as our prior kitty, Dixie, had passed from stomach cancer in November, Hobbes was in a cage on the top row at the far end of the room. He immediately started meowing and waving his arm out of the bars of the cage. It was like he was saying, “Come on down.” I tried to ignore him, but he kept up a steady yell. Once my son pulled him out of the cage, Hobbes immediately reached for me and clung to my shoulder. He most definitely chose us as his family. He was about two months old at that time.

We brought him home and he was full of antics from the get-go. Some of the things he amused himself with over the years were climbing the bricks of the fireplace, climbing the brick part of the kitchen that holds the wall oven and the microwave. He would crawl behind the microwave and peek out—sometimes all we could see was the tips of his ears.

He climbed the screen on the screened in porch when anyone was out at the grill. He walked on a leash with Mr. C.  He climbed on the arm of the chair, to the back and up onto the mantel where he’d sit like the Sphinx or adjust the picture over the mantel. He also climbed on top of the curio cabinet to “fix” the curtains. He loved to lie by the fire.

He loved to “help” wrap Christmas presents and always thought we brought the tree inside for his personal use. He’d hang out there the whole season, but never, ever bothered the ornaments.

He wasn’t much of a lap kitty. Except for Mr. C. as Hobbes loved to sit on his chest and snooze. He enjoyed my younger son’s playing with him and followed him around waiting for pets and loving. He watched every move my son made. He did like to lie on the back of the chair and put one paw on my shoulder or lie on the pillow behind my head if I was reclining on the couch or sleeping on the couch which I did often when having a nightmare as a change of scenery was needed to shake off the nightmare.

He hated thunder. He wasn’t a fan of rain and would insist I had the power to stop it. When I didn’t, he would pout. He soon graduated from leash walking to hanging out with Mr. C doing yard work or sitting outside watching movies on the iPad. He like to be under the deck and sometimes under the bed. It was like he enjoyed the tight quarters –I know he felt safe under there when the thunder was booming.

My grandson called him “Bob” as he couldn’t quite figure out the name Hobbes.

I sang a song to Hobbes almost every day that went somewhat like, “You’re my baby, baby. You’re my baby, baby.”

We had 4,601 days with this sweet babboo in our lives. He made us laugh and was a snuggle bunny. He leapt on my head every morning to get me up to feed him. Some days that was not fun, but what I wouldn’t give to have him do so again. When he didn’t feel well, he would lie beside me with some part of his body touching my arm.

He was diagnosed with heart failure back in late April. We did all we could to keep him with us; draining his fluid twice and giving him expensive medication three times a day for a few months, but his poor little chest kept filling up and he would be panting and trying to catch his breath. We thought we’d lose him in June before we could get to the vet, but he made it that day.

On Saturday, August 2^nd. I took him back to the vet to have his chest drained again, but it was so full and all they were drawing off was filled with blood. I was so not ready to let him go. I loved him so very, very much. But I couldn’t keep him around for me as that would have been so selfish on our part.

So, we made the hard decision to let him go. He got one last treat at the vet’s and only licked to juice out of the can of food. I petted him and sang his little song to him there in the private room he and I were in. I could tell he was having a hard time breathing. The vet was so compassionate and her techs even cried with me as they loved Hobbes as well. I was by his side as he left this earth. He got lots of love and petting on his way out. Sadly, I will never forget seeing him slump and the breath leave his little body, but I couldn’t spare myself that as he hated the vet’s office and I couldn’t let him go with just strangers around him—I had a duty for me to be the last person he saw. It is the price of love.

I feel guilty and I know I shouldn’t –the vet told me I made the right decision, and she wouldn’t have gone along with it if she didn’t believe it was the right thing for Hobbes, but I loved that guy so much. I hate that I was the one to decide to stop his heart and I hope he knew how much I loved him and didn’t see me as betraying him in those last moments. I’m shattered at losing him. Don’t even talk to me about a rainbow bridge. There is no rainbow in my life at the moment. I keep looking for him and so does everyone in my family. He always welcomed me at the door when I got home, sat on Mr. C  on his recliner, and waited for pets and love from my son. He was an integral part of our lives. We are all bereft.

Below are some of my favorite photos from the last year.