My Boy is Gone

If Tikie’s loss at the end of 2025 wasn’t bad enough, 2026 said hold my champagne. Not even a week into the new year, we lost our beloved Tiger, also to kidney failure. He lived with us a month shy of 17 years, and was approximately 20 years old. He was the first kitty I brought home when I was a shelter volunteer, and you can read that story here.

Heartbreak is inevitable when you bring a furry companion home, and you know that going into it. Letting them go when it’s their time is the final act of love you can do for them. In Tiger’s case, he chose to leave on his own terms, passing away peacefully in his bed at home, in front of the heat register. We are content with the knowledge that that was a perfect ending for him, having said our goodbyes before we left for work that morning. (We had a euthanasia appointment scheduled for that evening). He was cremated, and his ashes rest beside the others who have gone before him.

Tiger was a character when he was a young cat. He definitely had an attitude, and one vet thought he might have been a mix of Siamese and Bengal. He always let us know when it was time to eat, by getting on top of the dresser and proceeding to bat a picture frame against the wall, so you would wake up to wham, wham, wham!

That alone was a rude awakening. However, if you were the unfortunate soul who was on that side of the bed, you had to be aware of a falling lamp that was pushed off the dresser by an orange tabby who thought he was starving. (He wasn’t). This lamp was far from being lightweight, and I don’t know how many bulbs we went through. It’s a wonder my poor husband never suffered a concussion from all the lamp landings his head absorbed. Did I mention all of this activity, the frame and lamp, occurred on his side of the bed?

Tiger rarely had a health issue until he got into his senior years. He once had a bout of crystals in his urine, but with veterinary intervention it cleared up quickly and never recurred. When he wasn’t eating as he should, our finicky feline was prescribed an appetite stimulant rubbed onto his ear, which resolved that issue. A couple years ago, both he and Tikie went to their yearly checkup together, and senior bloodwork revealed failing kidneys for both of them, with Tikie’s condition more severe.

Losing one elderly cat is hard enough, but losing a second so close to the first is devastating. Even when you know it’s coming and for the best, it’s an awful reality. Our feline numbers dropped from 5 to 3 in less than a month. The house seems quieter, the routine shorter, as we mourn the passing of our beloved kitties. We’re giving the remaining three extra love and attention because they surely miss Tiger and Tikie, as grief is not limited to humans.

My Girl is Gone

How can you be surrounded by beloved fur kids, yet feel so alone? Tikie was the only female among the dogs and cats, my ever-present BFF against a house full of boys. She was my lap cat, my girly-girl, and my Princess Pea, and she became an angel on December 8, 2025.

Tikie let us know when she was ready to leave this world, her frail frame no longer able to combat the ravages of kidney failure. With broken hearts, we helped her cross the Rainbow Bridge, at the approximate age of 18 after being in our family for 13 years.

Her loss has been immense. We have our other cats, but Tiki left a void that can never be filled. When she was younger, she slept beside me. She was a lap cat at her core, often following me, meowing for me to sit so she could jump on my lap. She was a constant presence, and I feel lost without her. I’ve written about how she came into our lives here. My only regret is that we didn’t meet her sooner.

We received Tiki’s ashes in time for Christmas. The family feels whole again, in a new, somber way. She sits among those who have gone before her, Annie, Ozzy, Moose, and Red. All are missed and never forgotten.

2025 was tough on our fur family. Between almost losing Cosmo in the fall (more on that in future posts), and Tikie’s farewell, we hope 2026 will be kinder to us all. Unfortunately, another fur kid is declining, as he suffers from the same ailment as Tikie. It’s likely just a matter of time before 2026 claims one of our other beloved cats. I implore you to hold your fur family tight. My arms feel less full, my lap so much lighter.

** I’ve spelled our girl’s name two different ways intentionally, Tiki and Tikie. It was with an “ie” at the shelter, but we more often used just the “i.” Since it was the original spelling, “Tikie” is inscribed on her urn. **