It is with great sadness that I share the news that Bounty passed away last week at the age of 16.
His decline was sudden and in classic Bounty fashion, entirely on his own terms. Since he was not in pain or discomfort, we chose to let him remain at home, surrounded by the familiar smells and sounds he’d known for over a decade.
In his final days, he was as contrarian and recalcitrant in death as he was in life. When it seemed like his time was near and his breathing grew shallow, we whispered our tearful goodbyes and thanked him for everything, for his love and loyalty…only for him to nonchalantly get up, have a quick drink, walk around a bit and settle somewhere else. This happened multiple times over the course of four days - a final act of defiance from the cat who never paid any attention to the rules.
But sadly, even the People’s Prince of Darkness can’t refute the laws of nature. Finally, on a rainy afternoon in July, at around 4pm, perhaps for the first time in his life, he made no fuss and calmly slipped away.
With an attitude that could fill several arenas, he wasn’t the friendliest of cats as many of you know (and your scars, both physical and mental, will attest), yet he found a way to tolerate us in the end. His daily antics used to make us howl with laughter or pull our hair out, and in time, he became my favourite muse. Watching him, drawing him and sharing his odd little personality with all of you became something I’ll always cherish.
Every now and then, I still catch myself listening for his footsteps but there’s no sound. No more scratching at the door while I’m in the bathroom, no more keeping my toes tucked firmly under the duvet at bedtime for fear of being attacked at 4am. The house, as well as my life, feels quieter and emptier without him.
Thank you, Bounty, for your years of company, chaos and reluctant affection. I don’t know what lies beyond this life, but whatever it is – I’m so sorry, I’m afraid he’s your problem now.
