Goodbye Redford

 

So Monday afternoon and I’m in the middle of unpacking everything I own in my new house …and Jen sends me a text: Redford isn’t doing well.  We’re at the vet with him now. It’s not good.   I think we’re going to have to say goodbye today.

The message was not unexpected, not a surprise. I posted in March 2023 that I was concerned…

By now you know Redford’s story.  You’ll find some posts in this blog from January 2011 about an orange cat, a stray who planted himself on our front porch and (after my sister fed him) refused to leave.  He was a full grown tomcat, but after we took him in, cleaned him up and fed him, he turned out to be a sweetie.   My sister named him Redford.  Bob Redford, actually, on account of his color and naturally bobbed tail.  (Think he might be part Manx?). The vet said he was likely between 2 and 4 years old.  So he’s been a member of our family 13 years.  Cats have an average lifespan of 12-18 years.  

You can read about Redford’s exploits here, and here, and here. And there was one memorable Passover …

She texted me again to tell me that they had to say goodbye.  That she was very upset but it was the right thing to do.

He was a good cat, a loyal cat, a delightful member of our family. 

When Ann wrote Pawkisses from Heaven I cried for Little Binky.

Now it’s our turn to cry. 

Goodbye, Redford.  I hope you knew how much you are loved.