Animal Stories from All-Creatures.org

On the passing of Mr. Bear

From Lawrence Carter-Long
Facebook posting December 12, 2022

REMEMBERING CHARLIE BEAR fondly on the 11th anniversary of his passing. Wrote the following remembrance after my sweet boy passed on. Still miss ya, Boop...

On the stoop!

My best friend died December 19. I held him as he passed. It was peaceful.

Charlie Bear and I met in the Fall of 1999 in Sacramento. For a quarter of my life, through numerous hairstyles, changes in marital status, career, a move across the country, 9 years in Brooklyn and, ultimately, a new life in Washington, DC last May, the Bear was often the only constant in my frequently chaotic, ever-changing life. He would wake me in the morning for breakfast and greet me at the door each day after work. I’d give him updates on the various shenanigans I was up to. He’d listen patiently for a while and then pester me for pats and kibble. Most days, we’d share a nap.

When we began our acquaintance, Bear was a tough tom cat who lived in the shadows, had a total of 4 teeth in his head and an annoying penchant for marking his territory. He was an 'alley cat' without a home, or a human to call his own. It wasn’t long before he adopted me and found his true calling as a world champion moosh cat -- always eager for pats, a nuzzle or taking his proper place as ‘king of the mountain’ on the nearest, warmest lap of least resistance.

Mr Bear in Brooklyn.

I’ll miss Mr. Bear dearly, already do. I’ll always treasure the countless times “Boop-ah Bear” brought me comfort and made me laugh. From our bachelor pad days playing tag on 24th Street in tomato town, to unexpected dashes 8 feet up the back garden tree on 17th Street, to his grass munching excursions, to surprising poo, um, placements a-plenty, life with Bear was never boring.

The last year has been particularly tough for the old fella. He had chronic stomach issues that we were finally able to control with a prescription diet, then came the seizures. Still, through all the changes, all the moves, all the chaos, his famous purr remained constant. The night before he died, as Mrs. Fish and I watched a documentary about the creator of Tintin, he sat on my chest napping and purring loudly. The morning of the day he died, he sat on my lap after breakfast, purring away as I scanned the news and checked email before heading off to work.

As those of you who have seen updates here on FB know, just this past month Mrs. Fish was finally able to join me in DC after a year and a half of wrestling with immigration proceedings, I think Bear knew I was in good hand and that he could trust her to take care of me in his absence. That he could let go. She, too, was present as he passed and I'm immensely grateful. He seemed to be as well.

Taking a snooze...

To those of you who shared our journey, helped with his care and were fortunate enough to get a nuzzle or a rub from his fuzziness, thank you. Light a candle, say a prayer or have some kibble in his honor, as we await his next incarnation.

Moooooosh da Bear

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