IN MEMORY OF BUSTER

BUSTER: 
BORN APRIL 17, 2018
DIED JULY 4, 2025

We regret to pass along that our precious cat Buster has died.  He was 7 years old and with us from the beginning, even coming to live  with us in Ecuador.  We hoped and assumed he’d be with us for another 7 years, but it was not to be. The Vet diagnosed him with Feline Leukemia, and I’ll leave off describing most of his last days, except to say he did not suffer much.  

On April 17, 2018 his mother waddled up on our front porch.  She was hippo fat and ready to deliver, so she followed Rosie back down the walkway, out into the greenhouse where a cardboard box was set up for her birthing room.  In about an hour she had 3 black kittens, a gray one plus one long-haired black and white one, which was Buster.  In a few weeks homes were found for 2 of them, a brother and sister of Buster’s.   At one point some friends took Buster home, but it ended up one of them was allergic to his long hair.  And when he peed on the bed, Rosie brought him back.   Since I was already attached to him, I thought highly of the  mischievous act saying, “Way to go, Buster!”  

BUSTER AS A TEENAGER

So we ended up keeping Buster, his 2 brothers and mother, getting them all fixed after a while.  His long hair was soft and silky for a cat, as if it were shampooed.  People who petted him often remarked at how soft it was.  Each April or so we’d need to trim off his winter coat.  He allowed us to do this with very little fuss, and usually when it came to other jobs which most cats resent, he was uncharacteristically compliant. 

He was just different than his brothers.  When the kittens were just a few weeks old the mother moved them all to Rosie’s dad’s garage, just up the driveway.  We went looking for them, and found all of them except Buster.  Then we noticed a movement above us.  There he was walking on a board which protruded out from the loft as if he was in no danger.  He acted as if he were a mere 3 inches above the floor rather than the 3 meters which it was.  How he got up there we do not know. 

On rainy nights when we’d let all the cats inside. The others would make a dash to their food bowls.  But not Buster.  He’d be the last one in, and preferred to be petted and have his head scratched before meandering over to his food bowl as if eating were no big deal.  As you can see from the pictures, he preferred sleeping on his back, unusual for a cat.  We’ve often wondered if he did that because maybe his long belly hair made it too warm to lay in a more prone position.  Since that was a preferred resting position, I buried him that way. 

Before leaving for Ecuador we found homes for his mother and brother, the other brother having disappeared a year previously.  Between airplanes, airports and a long taxi drive, it was a 3 day venture and, while it was taxing, Buster endured it very well.  The question has been posed regarding cats as to whether they are more attached to owners, or to the territory they live in.  Buster was an indoor/outdoor cat, so we were not sure.  But we’d find out right away when he stayed close to us.  The first few times we let him out the cabin door and he went into the thick brush nearby, we feared we would never see him again.  But he’d reappear in 5-10 minutes.  He was smart.

We stayed in the cabin of a friend for the first 3 months in Ecuador, in which time Buster seemed fascinated with his new surroundings, but never going too far away.  We moved into our present house on July 4, 2024, Independence Day.  It would later be exactly one year to the day when he passed away.  In reminiscing about his last year we have concluded that little by little he became less active, becoming more of a house cat than previously.  We simply did not know his liver and other internal organs were fading little by little, hence less activity. Less exercise and being overweight did not help matters. When he was in a probable cat fight 3 weeks prior, he received a bite, and the wound became infected, going systemic.  So we took him to the vet where he stayed for 2 nights.  They revived him with IV fluids/electrolytes, antipyretics and antibiotics, and explained the diagnoses.   Because all communication was done via google translate, I assumed it was a mistake when they wrote something like, “With proper diet and medication his illness can be maintained and he can live a little longer.”  This inference was repeated the next day.  I was probably confusing his present infection with the leukemia he already had, and was never sure if the Vet was combining them when she explained diagnoses issues.  But since he had perked up nicely and was almost his usual self for 9-10 days, we thought he was in the clear.  But his appetite did not fully return, and little by little he retrograded, so we knew his time was at hand.  His immune system was just too compromised, and he would only live another 4 days. 

He had become a real Mama’s boy in his last year, often accompanying Rosie on walks, or being close by when she worked in the garden.  He often slept with us, sharing her pillow for a while before moving to the foot of the bed.  So it was only fitting that he should die in her arms.

It was 08:00 Friday morning, July 4 when he passed. Heart wrenching to say the least.  We cried as we looked at him, no longer breathing.  I told Rosie  that we should keep his red collar. He had worn that thing for 6+ years.  By now it was ratty and tattered, being held together with twisties, but I am sure he did not care.  We just wanted this as a little keepsake.  But it was not on him.

Rosie could not remember if she took it off him or not, but later looked in all the places where she was likely to have placed it.  Still not found.  We then assumed he had pulled it off recently, so it was probably somewhere on our property.  If it was not near any of his favorite siesta spots, it would be pretty hopeless to find such a small thing in the tall grass or brush where he’d occasionally go.  So we figured it was gone. I had looked here and there on the property, coming up empty.  But we still prayed it would turn up.

The next morning while having breakfast on the porch the idea came to my mind: “I wonder if the vet took it off?”  (And if they did why did they not let us know?)  It seemed like a long shot, but Rosie texted the vet while we were eating, who returned the text immediately saying they DID have it.  Wow!  Amazing.  Thank you Jesus.

We were planning a jaunt that day an hour to the south for a diversion, so stopped by the Vet’s on the way, and got it.  Phew!  This was a true Godsend.  Closure will be a little easier now, we hope.  

Some adjectives to describe him:  BIG.   He weighed 14 lbs at the Vets in Salem, Oregon, but less than 10 when he passed.  Bright eyed and bushy tailed.  Mischievous.  A Predator  to birds and rodents.  A companion - he liked our company.   Fun Loving - at 7 years old he was still playful.  Beautiful. Fun.  Smart.

We will miss him.  He was a special cat, and part of us died with him.  Enjoy the pics: 

One bright spot on Friday, July 4, the day we lost Buster, you may find interesting:

After Buster returned home from the Vet, we resumed our walks with him and the dog.  As he was still weak, we’d walk him to the lower part of our property with us and  sit on the hillside.  As he was weak we’d carry him back.  Here is a picture taken on 6/20/25, the day he returned home from the vet.  I am not sure why I took this picture, but it figures large in what follows.  We’d sit here almost daily.  

When his time was at hand, I dug a hole below that hillside, close to the fence line border of our property.  After we buried him, we sat on that same hillside, talked a bit, but I cannot recall any of the conversation.   Later in the morning, needing any sort of diversion, I walked back to the gravesite, and then back up to the same hillside just mentioned.  I closed my eyes and laid on my back, thanked God for the 7 years we had with Buster, but cannot remember anything else I said at the time.  

When I got up I noticed something white on the ground,  not 5 feet to my right.  It was just soooo white.  Why did I not notice this when I came here a few minutes ago, or when Rosie and I sat here earlier?  Or for that matter, was it there for the previous past 2 weeks when we had sat there?  We sat in the same spot every time.  I stood over it, still unsure what it was until I picked it up.  It was a bandage used for Buster’s IV site.  He hated them, and always tried to tear them off.  This bandage was with a cotton ball, something he returned from the Vet with 2 weeks prior.  We know this because we never used cotton balls after he came back.

He must have succeeded taking this one off, although where it was for the previous 14 days will ever be a mystery.  We sat on that hillside every day, and never saw it.  And when I noticed it, it seemed to be calling out “Look at me!”  The bandage was right where Buster was sitting in the pic.  Coincidence?  Not a chance.  

Well, sometimes  Providence has a way letting you know Someone watches out for you in your dark times.   How the bandage got to that very spot I do not know, but do know for certain it was NOT there during the past 2 weeks.  It would have been impossible not to notice.  I could speculate, but really don’t need to.  It would appear that Mr Providence is always a step ahead of us.  Some day I’ll understand the true significance of this, but for now I’ll keep trusting, and I think I’ll keep the bandage.