We lost our buddy Nigel today. I came home from school and found him on the floor at the end of our bed, barely responsive. The Mister and I rushed him to our vet and revived him once on the way. I was stunned because he wasn’t sick - he was actually a pain for The Mister this afternoon around 2 when he was bringing in a load of litter for the boxes.

Our vet was certain he had a fractured spine and a bleed into the spinal column. The dogs were with The Mister all day and they never touch the cats, so we could rule that out. The evidence points to a fall from our bed. Nigel liked to nap there in the afternoon and he probably rolled over to flip onto his back when he was too close to the edge. He was notoriously uncoordinated. If he had fallen when sleeping, he would have landed in a position where his 20 pounds of Maine Coon weight would have caused the break. He would not have been able to move far from where the fall had happened.

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We made the decision to let him go, since there is way too little that could be done for him. He was just barely over 5 years old and the strongest personality in our house. Things will never be the same without him, and I can barely believe that just this morning I chased him out of the tub so I could shower. I took this picture yesterday. We called that box “Fort Asshole” because he would always claimed it after we had shooed him away from some mischief or mayhem.

I love you forever, fluffy buddy.