From: le@main.lekno.ws   
      
   His official birthdate on file at the vet's was October 1,2008,   
   but that was long before my acquaintance with him.   
      
   Some time afterward,probably about 2010,he became the rescue cat   
   of Ilene Thompson,who I memorialized on alt.obituaries in 2021.   
      
   I met Ilene when we became colleagues on the local Democratic   
   committee,and met Mischa first and briefly when I visited her at   
   her former residence.   
      
   With the death of her former landlord his daughter wanted Ilene   
   (and thus Mischa) out and I rented a vacant apartment to her,   
   having more occasion to meet Mischa...Ilene eventually pronounced   
   me "the only man he ever purred for".   
      
   When she became hospitalized in 2021 I would visit the apartment to   
   feed Mischa,when he was not being boarded at facilities to or from   
   which I drove him.She had asked me to care for him,and when she died   
   her best friend/heiress/executor asked simply that when he died,his   
   ashes be given to be scattered where Ilene's had been.   
      
   I can not say that I measured up to his purrefurred standards of   
   can-opening and door-opening promptness but we respected each other   
   and his expurrtise at catwork was nonpurreil.   
      
   Ilene had been rather intensive in medical care provided to him,   
   but in the months of feeding him without giving him medication she   
   had been told he would need for the rest of his life after a heart   
   attack I saw no sign of illness,so I put off any care visits (not   
   forgetting my own limited finances).   
      
   Once a fat cat,he slimmed down,often leaving leftovers in his   
   food dish until I rinsed them out and replaced them...I certainly   
   never starved him however much he repurresented empty space in his   
   dish as a global crisis.   
      
   He had his way of pawtrolling the purremises purrovided to him,   
   and we largely stayed out of each other's way unless he wanted my   
   company,but concern for his feeding and whereabouts was a factor   
   in my life for recent years.I confined him a bit more than I should   
   have to keep him from getting into things,and didn't clean up after   
   him as much as I should have (he seemed to have a thing for making   
   messes [as do I] so I figured he could live with them).I hope he   
   forgave me that as I forgave every scratch and bite.   
      
   He got me to adopt Ilene's habit of leaving my bedroom door open,   
   so he could come in and go out at night as he pleased...he also   
   would spend time in my bed during days if allowed.   
      
   Some months ago he seemed ill for some days but recovered,but last   
   week this recurred.He continued to make his rounds of resting in   
   various places as best he could,but refused to eat and stayed still   
   longer.At times he made crying sounds for attention.After tending to   
   him through Friday,I took him to bed,he repositioned himself over   
   a while but eventually exited the room before I fell asleep,going   
   to wherever was next on his secret schedule.   
      
   The next morning,I looked for him,but he showed up to my sight   
   when he wanted to,returning from wherever he had rested most   
   recently to the guest bedroom where he spent most of his time,   
   and wound up on the big bed there.I called the veterinary office   
   and they agreed to see him,so I got him into a carrier and went   
   there.   
      
   They told me after examination with bloodwork that he was in kidney   
   and liver failure that was unlikely to respond to treatment and   
   suggested he be put to sleep on the spot,but I couldn't deal with   
   that,I didn't take him there to die.They gave him some fluid injection   
   to comfort him and contact info for 24/7 facilities where he could   
   receive intensive care,and I took him home in the carrier.   
      
   I had emailed the executor that he was sick,and now emailed her   
   that he didn't have much time but I would defer to her convenience   
   on end-of-life issues.   
      
   He repositioned himself in the carrier several times,engaged minimally   
   with a teaspoon of water I offered him,didn't bite at a sardine I   
   offered him to eat,but did put a possessive paw on it in a repositioning.   
   Not until after 10 PM did he choose to emerge from the carrier,hobbling   
   over to my feet where I was sitting,I petted him some times but not   
   invasively...he was making no audible complaints.   
      
   After some repositioning over an hour there I picked him up,saw he had   
   left a tiny puddle on the carpet,took him to a litterbox I had cleaned...   
   I hope he did not feel rejected by this.A while later he moved to just   
   outside the litterbox,then to under the adjacent bed.After I saw him   
   under there,I cleared a path to me through kicked-under-the-bed cans,   
   and he came out,I wanted him to know I was at his disposal every time   
   I checked up on him,but he chose to rest next in a nearby spot on the   
   floor.   
      
   Around 2 AM I was planning to go to bed and he was not in that spot,   
   I looked elsewhere to see if he had gone to my bedroom or what,did   
   not see him...I went to bed hoping to again find him after Sunday   
   sunrise if he did not join me.   
      
   Around 9 AM I looked around and finally went beyond where I had   
   last seen him,and around 2 corners where he had last been (into   
   a bathroom and a shower) I found he had died,already stiff...he   
   had checked out on his own terms.   
      
   I emailed the executor that he had died,and then as soon as the   
   vet opened today called them to arrange cremation...and emailed   
   the executor about that...finally called her on her work cellphone   
   today to find that she had pretty much stopped using the only email   
   I had for her (mine had changed too,so I hoped I wasn't spamfiltered).   
      
   I was his trustee rather than his owner,he won't be buried among   
   my own family's historic pets,but...   
   He'll be missed.   
      
      
   -=-=-   
   The World Trade Center towers MUST rise again,   
   at least as tall as before...or terror has triumphed.   
      
   --- SoupGate-DOS v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)