Starsky died Wednesday night. I mentioned Starsky last week as one of the last 2 remaining feral colony cats after Dark Darryl died. I was planning to cover her in detail soon and I’ll do that next week. For now, I’m just going to wish her good passage.
She was one of a litter of 4 we referred to as the crime fighters: Batman, Robin, Starsky and Hutch. She lived a long time for a feral cat, a few months shy of 12 years, probably because she was a homebody who gradually became less feral and fearful. She liked to tour the property with Loretta and we could pet her gently during the last years of her life, but picking her up would have been a fool’s errand.
We could see her declining for the last few months and catered to her tastes so she would eat, even if she was feeling peckish and picky. She loved the special food and was probably wondering why we’d been holding out on her for all those years. Her health and energy improved, but Thursday morning I came out to feed her breakfast and found her lying peacefully on the deck. She had obviously died hours ago.
Getting our feral population down to 1 cat seems like good news. After all, humanely controlling and reducing the number of feral cats was the goal of our TNR program. But I still feel sadness at Starsky’s loss.
Yes, she was just a feral cat who became a little less feral over time. I’ll probably joke a little with some of my golf buddies about having one less mouth to feed and finally approaching the end of this long cat saga of ours. There’ll be some truth in what I say. But …
Starsky and I greeted the dawn together every day for nearly 12 years. By the end of her life she wanted to eat and purr while I stood over her. If she didn’t get her envelope of chicken and tuna stew with her Sheba at breakfast, she’d give me the evil eye and a raspy “meow.” She was my friend, and I’ll miss her. Farewell and rest in peace, Starsky.
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