Kosh is gone.

Some posts are very hard to write.  This is going to be one of those.  We had to put Kosh to sleep yesterday.  My dear, sweet old man is gone. And my heart is broken.  I miss him so, so much.  He was 12 years old, which is old for a cat, but I had been hoping for a few more years with my buddy cat.

We got Kosh when he was a baby.  Keith found him while he was working,  abandoned and alone in an empty apartment.  Later that day, Keith showed up at my office with a cardboard cat carrier and this little head popped out when he opened it.  It was love at first sight.

Keith swears he was trying to find another home for the boy, and was just stopping by to say hello.  I know the truth.  He knew I would be unable to resist this little fellow. He was right.

We named him "Kosh" after one of the aliens in Babylon 5.  I was holding him in my lap, and one of the phrases from the show popped into my head:  "We are all Kosh."  So, Kosh he was.  For the longest time, though, we called him "Boy" since he was our only boy kitty at the time.

He had some of the most interesting habits as a baby.  He was all black, except for two white spots on his chest and belly and one little chocolate brown spot that was kind of on his belly and side.  He used to nurse himself on that spot before he went to sleep.  When he got older that place went away, so we always said that he licked the brown right off.

He used to like to crawl up on Keith's chest and take these long kneading walks, with this intent stare.  When he was done with that, he would stop and literally just plop over, trusting that Keith would catch him.  He'd fall asleep like that, and Keith would hold him while he napped.

His appearance did cause some chaos in our social order.  At the time we had two older females, Bennie and Basil.  We had lost sweet, fluffy Brianna several months earlier.  It took some time for the girls to get adjusted to this interloper, but eventually we all gelled into a family unit.

Basil on my lap, baby Kosh beside me and Bennie on a blanket

He was only about four when Basil passed.  She had been the head cat, which was a job that he wanted.  He still had a lot of kitten in him at that point, climbing all over things, getting into stuff, tormenting Bennie from time to time.  About a year later, Chiquito came along and Kosh matured over night.  Having a new kitten in the house really pushed him to grow up.

The night that Basil was put down, he crawled up into bed beside me, just like she used to do.  He pretty much stayed there the rest of his life.  When I was sick last year, he was always right by my side.  We called him my "Doctor Kosh."  He would walk me to the bathroom and lay as close to me as possible and purr to comfort me.

After I came home from surgery

He loved that Sailor Moon blanket

He started acting sluggish over the weekend and stopped eating at all Monday night.  We took him to the vet yesterday and the diagnosis was advanced kidney disease.  Ironically, I was supposed to call this week for an appointment for him to have a six month follow up check up.  The vet said that his levels were so off that there really wasn't any option for treatment.  Even sweet little buddy cats can't get a kidney transplant.  The misery he was already feeling was only going to get worse as the toxins continued to take over his little body.

We held him and loved on him and kissed him and cried over him and made the call that no one wants to make.  I was holding him in my arms as he slipped away.  Now, he's somewhere playing with Basil and Bennie again.

While we're stuck here wondering what to do.

Sweet, sweet Buddy Kosh (2002-2014)