Juniors Tribute

This morning, there is something missing from my life. There's an empty space on the back of our sofa where my companion Tony Junior (Jr.) usually sleeps or watches the world go by through the window, perched on his soft, red, fuzzy blanket. There, he waits for me to join him in a nap so he can climb onto my chest, settle in, and purr as I gently scratch his chin and behind his left ear.

You see, last night, October 10, 2023, Jr. quietly passed at about 11:30 p.m. Needless to say, I’m heartbroken. As I write this, tears are streaming down my cheeks. You see, Jr. was my special friend like no other. He never complained; he was always there to greet me every morning, at night, returning from a mountain trip, or just from a daily walk around the neighborhood. Junior, our indoor cat, had a routine of following me around the house. He never wanted to venture outside - he considered our home “his castle.” I could set my watch to his predictable daily routines. And he knew mine. See What the Cat Heard. He would jump onto my lap whenever I was seated and start purring softly. With his motor running, he would roll over, stretch out, and allow me to vigorously rub his tummy - and he loved it. (Caution don't try this with just any cat - you will get the Sh*t scratched out of you.) Junior was more than just a pet to me; he was my special buddy, and I cherished his companionship.

You see, in the past few weeks, Jr. began to show signs of his age; now over 15 years old, he was unable to keep food down, and refused to eat. We took him to his Vet, and interestedly, all of his vitals were fine. They did blood work, and no signs of any issues. Somewhat dehydrated, he was given fluids, and when we got home, he went directly to his bowl to eat something, which was very encouraging. Then, within a few days, he was again unwilling to eat. The doctor prescribed some medication that helped for a while. He would eat very small portions, but he was losing a lot of weight, strength, coordination, and vigor.

He never complained, never showed any signs of pain, sat stoically, and made sure I was following my routines. Then he would sleep. He became weaker, and yesterday, when we returned home from work there, he sat, quietly, stoically - yet on the floor a few feet from his litter box was a very large pool of blood. We took him to the animal hospital and urgent care. After a thorough diagnosis of a large lump in his abdomen, his temperature dropping, and anemic blood levels, he was undoubtedly checking out of our world. We will miss you deeply, dear friend - God’s speed.

Unfortunately, my dear friends, I'm afraid it won't be possible to record a podcast this week without experiencing a breakdown. So, as a tribute to Junior’s memory, I’ve attached to this blog the post - Juniors Jungle Gym so you can experience Junior at his best and we can relive the wonderful memories of a day in my companion Junior's long, loving life.

I’m Patrick Ball. Thanks for your prayers and well wishes. I’ll see you in the next episode.

Comments

Truth for Sale

This episode is inspired by Elton John & Bernie Taupin On Memorial Day, I took my first bike ride since the accident , seeking proof that my legs, lungs, and nerves still remembered the road. The morning air carried that familiar Southern California mix of ocean haze, exhaust, eucalyptus, and sun-baked asphalt. My tires hummed across pavement I’ve ridden for years. Somewhere between the steady click of the chain and the rhythm of my breathing, Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s The Captain and the Kid found its way into my ears. There’s a strange kind of magic when the cadence of a ride syncs perfectly with a song you know by heart. Suddenly, the music and lyrics stop being background noise and become a lens. And through that lens, the road started talking. I've been cycling on this road some, Can't help feeling I've been showing my friends around. I've seen it grow from next to nothing, To a giant eatin’ up our town. Called up the tealeaves and the tarots, Asked the...

Epictetus, Ego, and Acronyms

In this episode, Destroy Communication, One Three-Letter Acronym at a Time This week, I want to explore a deeply relatable, universally feared workplace character: the "know-it-all." Now, I’m not pointing fingers here. If we are being completely honest, we have all played this role. We've all uttered some version of, "Yes, absolutely, that aligns with our strategic objectives," while our internal monologue is screaming, "I don't even know what the objective is, let alone the strategy." What got me thinking about this was a chapter in Ryan Holiday's book, Wisdom Takes Work . Holiday leans on a powerful piece of Stoic truth from the ancient philosopher Epictetus: "It is impossible for a man to learn what he thinks he already knows." It's a brilliant quote that strikes right at the heart of the human ego. You can't learn what you already know, and you certainly can't learn what you pretend to know to save face. Though to be ...

Breaking the Script

In this episode, The Art of the Short-Circuit. We spend a surprising amount of our lives on conversational autopilot. You see it everywhere. At the hardware store. At the post office. In office hallways, where two people can exchange greetings, discuss the weather, and continue on their way without either one actually hearing what the other said. "How are you?” "Good. You?” “Busy." “Yep." It's less of a conversation and more of a system check. Most of us aren't being rude. We're just moving fast. We have emails to answer, meetings to attend, errands to run, and a hundred other things competing for our attention. Before long, our interactions become little more than verbal lane markers helping us navigate the day. I like to break the script. When I run into someone, instead of the usual greetings, I'll ask: "What's the good word?” The reaction is almost always worth it. You can practically see the gears stop turning. People pause. They blink....

The Yellow Legal Pad

In this episode, the Art of Refiring July 1st is staring me in the face, less than two weeks away. For years, retirement seemed like something that happened to other people. Suddenly, it's on my calendar. I've been thinking a lot about the dreaded "R-word" lately. Not because I'm worried about having enough to do. Quite the opposite. What fascinates me is this strange paradox: Why does retirement make so many of us nervous, while having a job—even one that regularly drives us crazy—somehow feels comforting? Let's be honest. Most of us spend years complaining about meetings that should have been emails, reply-all disasters, impossible deadlines, and that one coworker who insists on microwaving leftover fish in the breakroom. Yet when the idea of walking away finally arrives, we hesitate. I think I've figured out why. A career isn't just a job. It's a highly structured coping mechanism. For forty-plus years, somebody else has basically decided what I...

On The Fly

Search This Blog