Our Little Man, Will

Will and Grace’s first steps into their home

Will and his sister, Grace came to us at just 8 weeks old at the end of October in 2006. Beyond some fish (which didn’t go very well), they were the first pets that we truly ever called our own — even though we had already been together for 10 years at that point.

Plus, Jeff had always been a dog guy, and Moe had always been a cat guy, and we never thought we’d agree.

Moe perhaps, pushed the envelope a bit and figured that Jeff’s heart would melt as soon as a kitten was present. Turns out, like he usually is, Moe was spot on with how Jeff would react to a kitten (or kittens in this case).

All along, Moe knew that a friend’s cat had gotten pregnant. While the details are probably lost to time, the way Jeff remembers it, is that Moe kept dropping hints that we should bring the kittens home when they were born. At some point Jeff said yes and we were off and running.

It turns out that there were only two kittens in the litter and so of course, we had to bring both home. It seemed like fate and we weren’t going to argue with it. Jeff still hemmed and hawed a bit though, right up until the night that Moe brought them home.

As soon as they tentatively climbed out of their carrier, we both fell madly in love with them. They were very young and grew up so close together they became inseparable. We’d also like to think they fell madly in love with us (or at least thought we were the best human slaves possible). Since that first night, they have joined us in bed every night. They come running to the door whenever we come home. They cuddle up as we watch TV. They just know us and we know them.

They helped us welcome Maisy, our first pup into our home, and then helped us grieve her loss. They raised Sandy, our second pup - from someone who was smaller then they were, to a dog that’s 10x their size now - but who still follows them like a child to a parent — and even though Sandy now lives with Jeff’s Dad, when she comes to visit, you can see the bonds.

Of the two, we always joked that Will was the ham. He has always been less of a cat and more just a bundle of love and someone who would welcome anyone into our home. Grace on the other hand, has always been daddy’s little girl and pretty standoffish to anyone other than us, and a few select friends and loved ones, who we think she realized are important to us. In almost 17 years that’s only been Jeff’s Mom, Sharon, David, and Paul. Otherwise everyone else has wondered if she actually exists outside of photos.

All that led up to the last few months. At first we thought the new feeder we had gotten them had helped Will lose some weight (he’s been notoriously chunky throughout the years), but it wasn’t until the last month that we thought maybe something else was wrong. He seemed otherwise good though, no obvious distress, he still came and went around the house as he pleased, and he was eating and drinking.

Just before we left for vacation though, we noticed what we thought at first was a sty or a cut on his eyelid (his sister sometimes gets annoyed with him) and we asked Jeff’s brother, who would be checking in on them to watch. Jeff’s brother kept them both fed, but noticed how much skinnier Will was and he seemed to be getting more lethargic as the week went on. By the time we got home, the bump had gotten bigger and Will had gotten much more tired than when we left him.

We brought Will to the vet as soon as we could. We knew it wasn’t good. Usually Will (and Grace) has a mental and physical breakdown while traveling - hyperventilating, foaming at the mouth, crying, and so much more. This time thought, we didn’t need a carrier, and Will just sat in Jeff’s lap wrapped up in a blanket as we drove there. Something he’d never ever done before.

After a few vet visits, tests, and x-rays, we discovered Will has an inoperable tumor that is surrounding his esophagus and another one on his eyelid. There are probably others too, but given the nature of the esophageal tumor, we didn’t see the point of counting up more.

For now, we’re making him comfortable, and he is enjoying being fed in bed with the very softest foods possible. Clearly, the prognosis isn’t good and both of us are heartbroken at this turn of events. He has been our little man, so full of love and with a heart that is bigger than most.

At some point, probably soon, given his progression so far, he will be unable to eat or drink because the tumor will have closed off his throat. Neither of us can really contemplate that moment because it means it’s time to say goodbye.

We know we have to do right by him, but it is one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to contemplate. We will listen to him and do right by him, but his Dad’s are going to miss him so much.