Today at around 1:45pm, I lost a family member: My lovely Tuxedo male Quincy Adams. He came to us when he was 11 years old. His owners loved him but their grown son and his wife were moving back in with them. The wife was highly allergic to cats so they needed to rehome him. We took him in and for three days straight he cried at the door and sat there waiting for his owners to come back. Finally he bonded to my mother and me after less than a week and we found him to be the most loving cat in the world. He had many clashes with our other cat Felicia since she is a little snobby princess personality type while he was more like a frat boy who was too old for college. But they ended up loving each other being best friends.

He was so outgoing and friendly. We caled him our healing cat because no matter what was wrong he was there for you: you felt physically ill? He was there to nuzzle you and sit at your side until you improved. Emotional distress? You could count on him showing up out of nowhere and resting his paw on your arm to ensure you knew you weren't alone. This cat was amazing.

Felicia was my baby while Quincy bonded with my mom. However both cats would switch us up and hang out with us both. Quincy was unique. He would hop like a rabbit, and wrinkle his nuzzle like rabbit might, even pull up his front paws to his chest. So I started calling him Bunny Boy and he loved it. SO that led to other nicknames: Bunny-Buns, Bun-Bun, Booooney, etc. We were told at the time we adopted him back in 2006 he was 5, maybe 6 years old. However, he started getting lost in the house in rooms he would just walk in. So we took him to the vet two years ago and they diagnosed him with cat senility and he was actually 15 years old when they examined him.

We did all we could to make him comfortable. They predicted he would be dead by the end of the year from such advance stages of brain decay. This cat lasted two years. Finally, on Thursday night this passed week, he hid himself. He didn't come out for food at all. Finally we found him under the desk, petrified to death, and staring up at mom and me as if we were strangers to him entirely. I tried to reach out to him but he just cried in sheer fear. Mom tried and he backed away as if she was going to hurt him. So we left him alone thinking he would be better in the morning; it only grew worse. He didn't eat til late at night as mom forced food in his face. This pattern of fear and food forcing went on for a long time until we decided Friday night he needed peace.

The vet who put him down examined him before and upon seeing him and hearing of his behavior, was sad but in complete agreement that his time had come. He said that most cats with that disease die usually in 6 months from their diagnosis. He couldn't believe we were able to keep him alive for two years. Very peacefully, Quincy did not fight him any bit of the way. He accepted it and passed away within a minute. It was painless and quick.

Goodbye Quincy Adams a.k.a. Bunny Boy. You are loved, and will never be forgotten. My black hole of a heart cannot be touched by many but you made it there. I love you. R.I.P.