Goodbye to Golden Boy

I hated to say goodbye

Anne Chisom
3 min readMay 20, 2022


Photo by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash

My last cat left this world on March 29. My handsome, sweet, cuddle-loving, blond-colored kitty, Golden Boy.

Golden Boy had just turned fifteen. He was plagued with diabetes for the last eight of his years.

I’ve always felt his tolerance for diabetes was sure evidence of his sweet nature. For the eight years Golden Boy had diabetes, I had to give him shots, usually behind his shoulders, every twelve hours. He tolerated the shots without fighting to get away, and he never tried to bite or scratch me.

Not only humans get upper respiratory infections

This past winter, Golden Boy had an upper respiratory infection that he never fully recovered from. As that lingered, his heart got weaker. The vet warned me that he might not live much longer, but I refused even to consider that happening. I was wrong. Golden Boy passed away only a couple of nights after the vet gave me her warning.

I was genuinely surprised by how soon his heart gave out. After all, he still jumped onto me and pushed against my hand until I took the hint that he wanted a back-scratching and purr-producing session. He even did this on his last night before he died. He also spent part of that night sleeping on my head, which was a treat he allowed me when he was pleased with me.

It wasn’t that long ago that I had six cats. Most of them were close to the same age as Golden Boy and had lived with me since they were only a few weeks old. Of course the problem with all of them growing older at the same time was obvious. They might all pass away within a short time of each other.

Part of my mind accepted that probable course of events. But my always strong sense of denial allowed me to ignore that until one after another, they passed away.

At the passing of each of these special kitty-cat babies, I became an emotional wreck. My logical thinking apparatus knew I didn’t want any of them to stay here and suffer. But, oh, the loneliness.

Grief is lightened by gratitude for the time we had

I am so grateful for every day I had each of them here with me throughout the past sixteen…



Anne Chisom

Writing on whatever strikes my mood, from politics to humor (or a combination of the two), to spirituality, or whatever else shows up. Retired, not in retreat.