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(MH, let me know if I've left anything out.)

In 1982 we became the proud parents of our third child, our beautiful son John. We also became the proud parents of a beautiful Siamese cat we named Hank Williams, Jr. Hank was a beautiful chocolate point He wasn’t the skinny, standoffish Siamese you often see but a large, loving member of our family who grew up with our son. Now this was during the time I was a stay at home mom, raising our children, and being poor.

John and Hank were best friends and played together like two brothers. They were more like a boy and his dog than a boy and his cat. When they were old enough to run and play outside, Hank and John would climb trees and build forts in the back yard. They had an inside game that drove me crazy; Hank would hide under a chair or the bed and wait for John to come by. Then he’d pounce on John and hold on for dear life as John ran through the house yelling. Then they would do it all over again

When Hank was ready for loving, you could hear him coming from the other end of the house. He had the loudest purr I’ve ever heard. When he started purring, someone had better be ready to hold and rub him because was an insistent cat. My former sister-in-law loved cats. She always had two or three cats of her own but really loved Hank. But I don’t think Hank really like her much. Anytime she was around Hank would start his purring and jump up into her lap. She loved it. He would knead around like he was getting comfortable, purring loudly all the while, then turn his tail up and break the worse wind right in her face! It was so stinking funny that everyone would kind of watch for Hank to jump into her lap so we could watch him play his trick on her. She fell for it every time he did it, too.

The week before Christmas, when Hank and John were 4 years old, we took a trip to see Dan’s mother for the weekend. My brother was living here at the time so we asked him to make sure he went to our house and checked on Hank everyday. (Dan’s mother hates cats so we couldn’t take Hank with us.) When we came home three days later, I found every throw pillow I owned on the floor with a nice pile of cat poop on it. He had pooped on each one! I was so angry with my brother for not making sure Hank’s litter box was clean because Hank just wouldn’t use a dirty litter box. But checking the box, I found it perfectly clean and his food and water bowls full. My brother had just gone in the back door and checked the box and bowls, petted Hank, then left. He had never gone into the living room or den.

I was angry with Hank now. I figured he was mad because he didn’t get to go with us.
So I threw him outside for a while and started throwing away throw pillows. As I was cleaning, I heard Hank meowing so I went to the door to let him back in. It had started sleeting and I found Hank under a cedar bush beside the front sidewalk covered with sleet. I thought he was just upset because he had gotten in trouble, but when I picked him up, I knew something was wrong. His belly was swollen. I was worried that he had gotten into some kind of poison.

After calling the Vet and with the worse ice storm of the season upon us, Dan and I start to the animal clinic with Hank Williams, Jr. It was so icy that it took us almost thirty minutes to drive the 5 miles to the Vet’s. After examining Hank, the Vet told us that he had bladder stones from not eating enough food with ash in it. Apparently this is a common problem with Siamese cats. But the Vet told us not to worry, he could save Hank. He would just have to be in the hospital a couple of days. We were very relieved. We couldn’t afford a large vet bill, but we couldn’t afford to not take care of Hank; he was like one of our kids. So we left Hank at the hospital and drove home in the ice storm trying to figure which bill we’d put off so we could pay for Hank’s treatment.

Three days later the Vet called and said that Hank was well and we could come and pick him up. When we arrived, he seemed great except for his front paws. They had shaved his little front legs in order to insert iv’s to treat him. The Vet said that Hank should be alright now and sold us some special cat food that cost a dollar a can for him. He said that Hank would need to eat this food from now on. Thank goodness for credit cards! On the way home on the icy roads, Hank did something he had never done before; he peed on the leather seat of the car. We were so excited! This meant that his bladder stones were gone and he could pee again. That car held Hank’s pee smell for months!

Everyone was so thrilled to have Hank home for Christmas. John had been having trouble sleeping because of worry over Hank, but now they would sleep together and wait for Santa. We made sure Hank’s food bowl was full of $1 a can cat food and that his litter box had fresh litter. But Hank refused to eat the food. Hank had always been partial to hard cat food. Over the years we had tried all kinds of food for him, canned and moist pouch, but he had always refused to eat it. Well, we knew that he had to eat this canned food so we refused to give him the dry food that was in the cupboard. Hank would meow at the cupboard door knowing that that is where we kept it. We tried a can of tuna, but he refused it, too. We finally gave up and gave him ½ cup of dry food with the promise that he wouldn’t get it again.

The next morning, after all the presents were opened and the Christmas breakfast was over, I check the litter box; perfectly clean. Hank hadn’t peed since he had peed in the car the day before. I began to worry. I measured the water in his bowl and decided to keep a close eye on Hank’s bathroom habits. For two days Hank didn’t pee or poop and he refused to eat, even the dry food he wasn’t supposed to have. I knew that Hank wasn’t well. We called the Vet and he told us to bring Hank back in so he could check him again. So, with ice still covering the streets, we took Hank back to the Vet’s office.

“Well, he still has a problem.” the Vet told us. “But I can save this cat. He’ll have to be admitted back into the hospital for more treatment, but I can get him over this.” We were relieved, again. We left Hank and, since our credit card was maxed out, drove to the bank to apply for a loan so that we could make sure that Hank had the best treatment available in our town.

A week later we picked Hank up from the hospital. This time the Vet had shaved his neck in order to insert the iv’s that saved him. Again, everyone was thrilled to have a healthy Hank back home. Again, he refused to eat. We called the Vet and he said that sometimes cats took a few days to get over the trauma of being in the hospital and away from their family. We were told to just watch him and make sure he had fresh water and food.

Hank never peed again. Nor did he ever eat. Hank had kidney failure and was dying. I knew Hank wasn’t going to recover so I called the Vet and asked when we should bring him in to be put to sleep for good. The Vet really was a good guy. He had known us for years and knew how dear Hank was to us and our children. He told us that Hank was not in pain, he was slowing dying from kidney failure, but wasn’t hurting. All he wanted was to be with us and he felt it would be best to keep Hank at home and let him die a natural death with his family around. He told us to talk it over and if we felt like it was not what we wanted to do, then we could bring Hank in and he would take care of the final shot.

The children were adamant that Hank should stay with us and that we should take care of him in his final days. For the rest of his life, someone was holding Hank. He still slept with John and they spent all the Christmas season together. He would still purr his loud purr and we knew we had made the right decision.

After about a week, we got the biggest snow in years. It snowed 28 inches in one day and that’s very unusual for the Ozarks. This snow was so bad that the entire town was shut down for days. And it was very cold, too. I was worried that Hank would get cold so I put him in his bed with a warm blanket near the heater vent. The next morning, we found him dead. He appeared to have tried to get out of his bed and crawl to John’s bed. We were heartbroken but happy that he had passed away at home and without pain. I believe it was easier on our children, especially John, to be with Hank as he was dying.

But we had 28 inches of snow and frozen ground. We couldn’t bury Hank. We place Hank in a box lined with his favorite blanket and his toys, wrapped the box in two trash bags, and place him in the basement near the door so he would stay cool. It was a full week before the snow melted and the ground was soft enough for Dan to dig a grave.
We buried Hank in the garden where he and John built their forts and climbed trees with the original Hank Williams, Jr’s music playing.

We no longer live at that house, but every time we pass, we look at the spot where Hank is buried and remember how lucky we were to have known and loved him.