the mellow tigger's musings

December 1st is World AIDS Day.  It has been a day of remembrance since 1988, which is about the time that someone I knew died of it.

Jan Ensink was the first gay man I ever met, at least that I knew at the time was gay.  It was about 1987 (I think?) and I wanted to join a Gay Student Services off-campus social meeting that was mentioned in the university newspaper.  I called the number and left a message.  Jan called back, wanting to meet first before going to someone's apartment who was hosting the meeting.  They always met people first, because of harassment issues.  I met Jan in a TCBY frozen yogurt store, which was a new thing back in those days.  I showed that I wasn't a homophobe, and he took me to the meeting afterward.

Jan was a former president of that student group, which was still a new thing on campus after the legal battle that forced recognition by the university.  He was a graduate student and I was undergrad, so we moved in different circles, but I learned over time that Jan was planning to marry a lesbian (a lawyer, I think?) because she needed a "beard" for her corporate career, and he needed USA citizenship to get into what he claimed were great drug trials then happening in Colorado.

Time passed.  A while later (1989?), I was in a campus office for something unrelated when I picked up the former student publication on the table and began reading it.  Inside was the obituary for Jan Ensink.  It mentioned nothing about what killed him or the medical battle he fought for years.  I think it said Jan died in Colorado, but it didn't say why he moved from Texas.  I think it mentioned the wife, but nothing else about her.  It was a very sanitized statement, which was typical of what happened back then.  Something suitable for the coffee table where I learned his fate.

I think this picture (far left) is the right guy.  It's from 1983, and he's not quite as beefy in the photo as when I met Jan a few years later.  I knew a few self-aware guys who beefed up after they learned of their diagnosis.  They were thinking ahead, knowing they'd need that muscle mass for the episodes when they lost weight precariously.

I've mentioned Carl before, but I figured this year I'd tell the tale of someone else I knew.  There are others, but none I remember as readily as these two.

I think T'Reese was 16.5 years old when she died today. She was unable to eat or drink, so I called a veterinarian for a home visit for euthanasia. The vet arrived a few minutes before noon. After T'Reese died, I took her body to AHS for cremation.

I first saw this cat at my workplace, the Texas Workers' Compensation Commission. A coworker brought her to the office so I could meet her. He was worried that he would not be able to find a home for this last kitten of the litter because she appeared almost solid black in those early days. He thought that people were avoiding her because of the old story that black cats are bad luck. I liked her, though, so I kept her in my cubicle until the end of the workday when I could bring her home. I'm pretty sure my boss wasn't thrilled with her there, but what could he do? Send me home early with a new kitten? (Oh, the horror and shame.)

I was unable to think of a good name for her right away. I kept thinking "Reese", because her color was black and brown like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Someone suggested feminizing that word, so I went with "T'Reese" instead. Her personality didn't make her much of a lap cat. She enjoyed petting, but only under her own control. She would be the one to rub her head and body against my hand. She knew that sleeping within arm's reach meant that I would pet her, so she crawled into bed with me only down by my ankles, safely out of petting range. She tried to avoid all contact with strangers, so she lived well as an indoor housecat where she was sheltered from the busy civilization of noisy humans.

She drove up I-35 with me from Austin to Minneapolis, along with a ferret and a 10-gallon bucket of small aquarium fish. She disliked car rides because they usually meant a trip to the veterinarian, but at least she didn't get car sick. She was quite well mannered. She would frequently hiss at approaching cats (or at Hope when that young cat frequently pounced at the older T'Reese) but never struck out at them that I saw.

T'Reese enjoyed playing with the ferret while he was amongst our little household.  She never took much interest, though, in the computer games that I played.  Nevertheless, I funded a Kickstarter campaign back in 2012, and I bought the opportunity to name one of their stars: T'Reese.  Soon, you can look for her name among the stars of the space exploration game Predestination.

She was always picky about food. She seemed to have an allergy to seafood, throwing up most of the seafood meals that I gave to her. For the last year of her life, the problem became worse and she was throwing up frequently. I kept trying different foods from the store. Non-grain foods seemed to be easier for her to tolerate, but she started refusing all meals in her last days. I didn't realize until too late that she was also refusing all water. She would go to her many sources of water, dip her chin down to the water surface... and then freeze. Only with close observation did I notice that she was not actually drinking. She would finally give up her effort then move on to another water source or go back to her bed to lay down. I had only marginal success using cat formula with a syringe and tubing. I think I got only a few milliliters of fluid into her during the whole weekend. Most of it went everywhere else. It was demotivating for us both. She and I were both helpless to do much for her thirst.



I should have let the vet euthanize her on Friday, but I didn't realize her health condition was so severe. Watching her unquenchable thirst this weekend was unsettling, since there was nothing actually to be done for it. The vet and I assume it was a slow growing cancer in her liver that was affecting her health this past year. It finally became too much for her body to endure.



T'Reese will be missed.