SqueakingJellybean
Mission Control -- All is ratness
Four months and a day after his buddy Arthur passed, James Bean was gently escorted across the Rainbow Bridge. He was two years and four months old.
James Bean had developed an aggressive tumor on his left side, and it was starting to interfere with eating and breathing. Some of his favourite foods made him nauseated; while he still ate some, it wasn't enough, and he kept turning foods away as they made him feel ill. He'd just recently started making some odd breathing sounds, which is never good. He kept insisting that he was still perfectly fit and healthy, but the raw patch where he had started to overgroom his abdomen said otherwise. He tried so hard to put on a brave face, to convince us he would live forever, but when his lump developed a lump, we knew there wasn't much time left.
From James Bean, we learned that some folks have no interest in formal education, and that's okay-- they find their joy elsewhere. James Bean had no interest whatsoever in trick training, but he loved to explore new places (and sleep in them) or solve puzzles.
When we buried him, we found a cat's eye marble several inches down in the dirt. I'll be tucking that somewhere safe, along with Arthur's green wooden heart toy and Elsa's trophies (she straight-up slaughtered three dingle balls, leaving the little mettle bells behind).
He will be remembered often and missed always.
James Bean had developed an aggressive tumor on his left side, and it was starting to interfere with eating and breathing. Some of his favourite foods made him nauseated; while he still ate some, it wasn't enough, and he kept turning foods away as they made him feel ill. He'd just recently started making some odd breathing sounds, which is never good. He kept insisting that he was still perfectly fit and healthy, but the raw patch where he had started to overgroom his abdomen said otherwise. He tried so hard to put on a brave face, to convince us he would live forever, but when his lump developed a lump, we knew there wasn't much time left.
From James Bean, we learned that some folks have no interest in formal education, and that's okay-- they find their joy elsewhere. James Bean had no interest whatsoever in trick training, but he loved to explore new places (and sleep in them) or solve puzzles.
When we buried him, we found a cat's eye marble several inches down in the dirt. I'll be tucking that somewhere safe, along with Arthur's green wooden heart toy and Elsa's trophies (she straight-up slaughtered three dingle balls, leaving the little mettle bells behind).
He will be remembered often and missed always.
