We said good-bye to Fat Kitty today. Since his colon cancer diagnosis on Monday, we were prayerful about when to put him down. We selfishly wanted more time with him but we didn’t want him to be in pain so as we saw his rapid decline, we knew Friday would be the day.
The doctor prescribed Prednisone to shrink the tumor and anti-diarrheal and anti-nausea meds but trying to get him to take them was moderately traumatic for him and us (he hid under Bode’s bed and was afraid of us). We made the difficult decision to not continue his meds so he could live his final few days in peace. And that they were. His little body was slowly shutting down. His once robust appetite was replaced by barely eating a few morsels a day, he strained to go to the bathroom and he withered away before our eyes, considerably lighter when we picked him up. I always proclaimed he was just big-boned and that he was…when most of his fat gone, Jamie estimated he was still 1 foot across when laying down.
Fat Kitty has prepared us for his departure all week, slowly pulling away and occasionally seeking privacy and refuge under Bode’s bed, something he hasn’t done in the 10 years since we brought him home. Jamie told us it was like an elephant graveyard…our sweet boy just knew the end was near. Jamie and Bode built him a little coffin made of wood and Hadley drew flowers and a sweet message. My wonderful friend Sarah came over on Tuesday to do a family photoshoot with him. He hated every minute but I’ll treasure those pictures forever. 
Last night was hard knowing it was his final night on earth. He fell asleep by my side but I awoke at 1 a.m., stressed about him and work. I looked around and he had disappeared. I surmised he had retreated under Bode’s bed again and I worked for a couple more hours. As I started to return to try to sleep again, I heard something in the laundry room: he was trying to go to the bathroom in his litter box. We met out in the living room and connected in a beautiful, tender way. As I looked into those magnificent green eyes, he told me he was ready. It was time. I brought my beautiful boy back to bed with me, in tears, and savoring every last minute with him. I only got two hours of sleep that night but it was a sweet night I’ll never forget.
He has been struggling all week but today, he was a bit more energetic. The weather was finally warm and sunny enough to go outside. He and Hadley explored his beloved fields and our neighbor’s yard. He sat on the porch cushion for an hour basking in the sunshine. When he came back inside, he retreated to Bode’s dark room for some privacy but Bode, Hadley and I surrounded him with snuggles on the bed. Poor cat was probably like, “Just leave me alone!” But we wouldn’t. That afternoon, I dimmed the lights to my bedroom, played some calming music as Hadley and I massaged and snuggled him for his final few hours on earth. We said a tearful family prayer with him one last time.
(Final touch and a smile)
Due to COVID-19, the vet clinic no longer does home visits so we had no choice but to take him back to the clinic. We waited on the back lawn as he anxiously sniffed the air and watched the birds. Every night before bed, Bode falls asleep to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s “God Be With You ‘Til We Meet Again,” and gosh darn if that kid didn’t play the song and make us cry all over again.
The vet tech came out to us, took Fat Kitty inside the hospital to shave his paw and insert an intravenous cannula. She returned with the veterinarian who was so gentle, sensitive and kind with him and us. We placed him in the middle of us, touching his back as the injection traveled through the tube and a matter of seconds, he slowly bowed his head and fell asleep. It was fast. It was heartbreaking. It was peaceful. 
Jamie placed him in his little casket and wrapped him with Aunt Lisa’s beloved blankie. I held him the drive home, just as I did the first time we brought him to our house 10 1/2 years ago.
We gathered around the little grave the kids and I dug this week. I asked if anyone had anything to say. Filled with emotion, Bode spoke up. He was 3 when we brought Fat Kitty home and he doesn’t remember life without him.
“I still remember when we brought him home to our house in Arvada, it was dark outside,” he reminisced as he looked up at the bluebird sky. “But today as we drove him back home for the last time, we were going toward the light.”
I read a eulogy I wrote (below) about our sweet boy, Jamie did a beautiful dedicatory prayer of the grave and we said good-bye to our boy forever. How blessed we were to have such a sweet, loyal and kind pet in our lives.
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Jamie’s Facebook post:
To our dear pet of more than 10 years, Fat Kitty. To say our relationship was complicated, would be an understatement. I would explain my dissatisfaction at times for your early wake-up calls and you would show your dissatisfaction with a poop surprise.
Although our relationship was mutually love/hate, I loved you because you loved my family. There is no cat that has ever been more adored by two children and a wife. You brought them constant joy and for that I love you.
I will miss you hunting voles in the backyard. I will miss seeing you curled up with Amber on the bed. I will miss your strange but wonderful conversations with Hadley. I will miss the strange way you would lean yourself up against the wall so you could lick your Buddha belly. And I will miss your absolute zest and passion for food.
Sleep well, Sweet Kitty.
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My eulogy:
Remy “Fat Kitty” Tiger Johnson (October 2006ish – April 17, 2020)
Our beloved pet, son, brother, mentor and best friend passed away from Colon Cancer on April 17, 2020. Fat Kitty lived a full life (or rather, spent much of his life full) in the company of his dad Jamie, mom Amber, sister Hadley and fraternal twin brother Bode.
Fat Kitty was rescued when he was about three years old and went on to spend 10 ½ wonderful years with the Johnsons. His talents included catching mice and then sitting on them for fun, doing backflips off window sills after slamming into the blinds, getting attacked by mama magpies for attempting to stalk her babies, eating copious amounts of TUNA, finding the softest place to sleep and using poop as a weapon when he was mad.
Fat Kitty always had to be near his humans, snuggling, purring and loving them hard. He was loyal and protective and would see his children off to school every morning and greet them when they arrived home. His “meow of death” made an appearance during his three memorable baths–two baths were the result of a muddy life on the lam, the other after his brother finger-painted him with chocolate pudding. Fat Kitty would quizzically look at his humans anytime they tried to (what’s that word again?) do a thing called playwith him…but they would occasionally see bouts of whimsy when his beloved Mr. Fluffles made an appearance.
(Mr. Fluffles)
Fat Kitty is preceded in death by Amber’s mom “Grandma B” who passed away almost exactly one year ago. The night before her passing in a midnight interchange with her son, she quietly told him, “I’m ready to go home.” At 3 a.m., just 12 hours before Fat Kitty’s untimely death, he and Amber had a similar encounter as he gently told her it was time. He passed away peacefully the next day on the lawn of the Wasatch Animal Clinic surrounded by his loving family and the veterinarian who poked and prodded him his final weeks….but who provided the ultimate healing in the end.
Fat Kitty was buried in his backyard near the gate he used to sneak out of, overlooking the fields where he spent some of the happiest days of his life catching his “mouse friends.” He was laid to rest in the (kind of) little wood coffin his dad and brother built that was painted with roses by his sister. He is forever wrapped in the loving embrace of his favorite blankie and sealed with love.
May we all live our fullest lives like Fat Kitty by eating a lot, slumbering in splendor, crapping on the stuff you hate and, most importantly, always staying physically connected to the ones you love.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 