Hambone and I found each other barely a week before COVID shut down the world in early 2020, when I lived in Bend, Oregon. A handsome, six-year-old orange and white tabby, he had been returned to the shelter after his first adoption when the vets at Colorado Cat Clinic discovered he was positive for FIV. The shelter called me up to see if I was still interested, and when I met him, I knew I wanted to give him the best home I could. I kept taking him to the team at CCC while I lived in Bend, since they knew his story and were as committed to his health as I was.
Hambone had a big personality and even bigger heart. At a robust 15lbs with striking facial features and a demanding presence, he became my daily source of joy and hilarious exasperation at a time when the world felt uncertain and heavy. One of my favorite things about Hambone was how he stomped through the house -- you could hear him moving three rooms away. He was never graceful or light, but what he lacked in elegance he made up for with an earnest approach to everyone. That earnestness won over even the biggest cat skeptics; constantly insisting on chin scratches and butt slaps, he would often accidentally throw himself off of furniture or flop to the floor in his quest for attention. A blend of big and soft, bold and sweet, Hambone (also known by his full name, Hamster Boneyard) and I spent more than five years together, learning each other's language and quirks. He was always there when I needed to be pulled from depressive episodes or spending too much time on my phone, sometimes actually swatting the device from my hand to bring me back to the present.
In summer 2023, I learned that Hambone had another serious health condition related to his heart, and that he may have two years at the most to live. I was getting ready to move to Eugene to start a two-year graduate program, and I was devastated at the thought that my buddy wouldn't be able to see it through to the end with me. I needed him there.
We made the move and settled into Eugene together. I became determined to give him the best two years I could and to cherish every moment we had together, and between studying and classes, Hambone stayed curled next to me on his heating pad or comfortably splayed in his window seat next to my desk. And a little over two years later, a few months after I graduated from the University of Oregon and settled into my new home in Springfield with the best cat I could've asked for, Hambone's health finally came calling. He passed away gently in my hands on August 28th, 2025, with the support of the incredible Wilvet South team in Springfield.
The outpouring of love for Hambone from friends, colleagues, strangers, and all those who cared for him still overwhelms me. I hope everyone who has the chance and ability to care for a special needs animal seizes the opportunity. Hambone faced many challenges, but I shudder at the idea of having missed the chance to give that incredible creature a loving home. Thank you to all the dedicated vets leading research and delivering thoughtful medicine so that animals like Hambone can live full, beautiful lives alongside very lucky humans like me.
