I am very sorry.
I’m sorry Johnny L.A.. What a lovely cat Harvey was, he really does sound exceptional. He must’ve been a very special companion to you, working with you at home. It’s so hard when they go.
Such a kitty. We lost ours last summer and share your sadness.
My dear friends,
We only get to be with them a little while compared to ourselves, yet in those short years they make an impression such as you have written about upthread and they secure a place in our hearts as no human can.
I’m glad you wrote about Harvey and let us share in the love and sadness you both feel. I have known you as a friend for quite a long time, John, but even though we’ve never met, I can see from your words the person you are. Harvey and the two of you are painted in those words and Dondra and I know to appreciate them.
We send our love and condolences
Bill and Dondra Craig
Touching OP post.
Its tough loosing a good pet. In the past few years I’ve had to deal with the loss of more than my share of them. It sure is rough.
When George Carlin said something to the effect of “you are not getting a pet…you are getting a tragedy” he was awfully close to the truth.
The good ones bring so much joy to our lives. And hopefully as good owners we do the same for them. But God o God does the ending suck so very badly.
Remember the good times and how much better you each made each others life experiences.
“…Then I introduce them to Harvey, and he’s bigger and grander than anything they can offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed.”
So sorry for the loss of your much loved friend, Johnny L.A.
With thanks to Elwood P. Dowd
So sorry. He sounds like he was a lovely boy.
It’s been nearly 48 hours since I took Harvey to the vet. We’re still looking for him. Last night the SO said she looked over twice to see if he was sleeping in the crook of my knees. My watch winder started, and one of the watches reflected a flame in the fireplace. Movement. I looked for the cat. Once when I was in serious pain from an intestinal blockage, I went to my mom’s and we made chocolate chip cookies. She said that making chocolate chip cookies makes people feel better. Last night I made cookies (from a tube, though; not from scratch). They lifted our spirits a little. But the heating metal in the new oven made sounds, and it sounded to me like the cat was doing something in the kitchen. (He’d sharpen his non-claws on the recycling box.) Yesterday I went out to get some wood, and left the back door open. I left the front door open when I went out there, too. He wouldn’t have run outside. He was an indoor cat. But it felt weird not shutting the screen door or putting up the baby gate Scotticher gave us.
To those who have agreed that Harvey was a special cat: I can’t over-emphsise what a little gentleman he was. That he would not wake the humans amazed me, even after living with him for two years. He never made me angry. Even when ‘mom’ scolded him, she did it with a laugh. Sometimes he’d beg in the kitchen. But if you scolded him in the right tone he’d quiet down. And he didn’t beg often.
Speaking of begging, he didn’t like human food. You might get him to have a small speck of smoked salmon, and he ate a crumb of chicharone a couple of times. But he liked his dry food. Wet food was a treat (a necessary one because of his medicine). He’d eat a teaspoon of it, and that’s all he wanted. I made tuna salad once and put the ‘tuna water’ down for him. He sniffed at it and didn’t touch it. He liked his Purina dry food, and that’s what he wanted. He was a weirdo.
I mentioned the ‘bedtime ritual’. When one of us would go to the kitchen, Harvey would follow or lead the way. Not that it was medicine time or bedtime, and he always had food in his dish; he just liked being with us. Last night I got up off of the couch, and noted that I was looking at the floor and at my feet to make sure I didn’t trip on him. Sometimes he was quick, but often he’d mosey and sometimes stop in front of us.
Boy, was he a happy cat! He could sure purr. He’d come over to the couch and look up at my hips and my face. I’d say, ‘OK!’ and he’d jump up and settle in for a good purring. He’d purr loudly when I picked him up, especially if I took him over to a window to look out. He purred when he settled into bed with me. When I scratched him under his chin and pet his face, he had a contented smile.
I picked up his dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and I put the fork we used to mix up his medicine in there too. I didn’t empty his water tank/dish and put it in, because I think the SO might want to do it. We have at least half a bag of Iams dry food, half a large bag of pine litter (works great, and it’s inexpensive and keeps the odour down), and a couple tins of wet food. I want to take them to the shelter. As I said, the SO wants to visit the vet to thank her for her kindness. (And to pay the bill.) I want to send the leftover phenobarbital with her (if don’t go with her). The vet says that phenobarbital has recently skyrocketed in price, and she bought a stock of it so that she doesn’t have to charge too much to her patients. We just got a refill a couple of weeks ago, and it sounded like she was getting low. I don’t know if she can accept the pills back, since she has no idea what we may have done to them. (Nothing; they have been in their bottle.) But she might be able to use them.
I hear the SO getting up. I’d better close this post so as not to upset her.
Thank you so much for sharing Harvey with us. I am sorry for your loss.
I’m sorry for your loss. I know how your cat can become a part of your life, and how you don’t even realize how big a part it was until it’s gone.
**Quasi **said it all for me already. I’m glad you had him; I’m glad he had you.
RIP, gentleman kitty.
Our vet’s office has a donation bin. We took the leftover food and drugs to them, and they were happy to get both. She can probably use the drugs as test samples for others’ pets.
He sounds a lot like my Raven.
It’s a powerful thing to win the trust of a kitty, and it’s one of the things I hold tight to when I’m having a bad day. I showed my cat that I could be trusted. I like to think that goes on some sort of universe-kharma scorecard somewhere. I’d say it’s a sterling character reference that Harvey put that kind of faith in you.
(And, yeah, I’m taking it kind of to heart that your kitty and I shared a name/category.
The SO chose the name six years before I met Harvey.
Last night, the SO said she hates thinking of Harvey cold and stiff.
This seems appropriate.
The loss is great. One thing I’ve done is to mark the grave of my cats with a solar powered lantern - the lighting at night is comforting.
A few animals will provide the sort of close bond that is unusual, and their loss can be harder to take. My big loss involved Dirty, who was a great snuggler, bed invader and she liked to colonize my chest.
The little monsters break your heart, but it’s worth it.
Your OP was a beautiful tribute to a beautiful member of your family. I understand and share your pain, Johnny. May he RIP.
Johnny, you have my condolences. It is a hard thing to lose such a wonderful pal.
I’m sorry for your loss, Johnny. Cats manage to steal a little chunk of us when they come into our lives and shatter our hearts when they leave.
A beautiful post for a beautiful cat.
I’m very sorry for your loss, but thank you for sharing some of Harvey with the rest of us.
I’m really sorry to hear about Harvey. It’s really hard to lose a pet you love so much. He reminds me of our oldest cat, Socks (he’s the one on the far left), who died unexpectedly this summer. Socks was a loud purrer, too, though no one ever described him as “polite”. Thank you for sharing your memories of Harvey with us.