Momo died August 11, almost certainly of intestinal cancer, possibly small-cell lymphoma. He was euthanized at home after a week of not eating and getting weaker, during which I loved him thoroughly and let him do whatever he wanted, which wasn’t much. For a cat with an inaudible purr who was an asshole much of his life, he sure purred and cuddled at the end.
I buried Momo in my friend’s personal pet cemetery in his woods south-west of Champaign county.
The gray stone marks Momo’s grave; the smaller striped stone commemorates Lola, who had to be cremated because no one was in town to help bury her; and the plaque rests above Cori’s late cat Harley.
Momo is survived by George the kitten. I plan to adopt another kitten or young cat so George can have a playmate; he was always wanting to play with Momo, who probably would have come around had he not been dying. And then I hope there’s no more cat drama here for a long time, because this year of loss has been awful.
