I buried my cat yesterday.

Well, its done… wednesday at 11:20 I put my cat to sleep. The waiting was horrible… the act was sad. It was fast and it was painless. The Vet inserted and IV catheter and we spread out a sheet on the examining table and held him close to our hearts and petted him and told him we loved him. The Dr. emptied the syringe into the catheter quickly. Half way through he started going limp. The end I swear should have been had a sound to coincide with it. It was one instant alive, the next instant dead. Looking back on it I realized you could tell the exact millisecond that life left his body and his eyes went to glass. Everyone should go out of the world that fast and painlessly.

We wrapped him up in the sheet and took him home. We laid his body out in the courtyard and let the dogs out to sniff him and see. I placed his sheet wrapped body in the grave I had dug and covered him with dirt with my hands until he was no longer visible then I covered him the rest of the way using the shovel. At night I became sad that he was out in the dark alone and I felt silly.

We did what was best for Max but it was still hard.

Instead of more sympathies which I have received in full from my fellow doper friends (and I thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart… you are a kind hearted bunch). I want to do something a little different.

If you want to, mention something about your own pet… living or dead that made them special. Whats the coolest thing they ever did? Whats the most human thing they ever did? What would always bring a smile to your face. I will start.

My favorite memories of Max are watching him and my dog Buddy wrestle and fight and play. When I brought Buddy home as a puppy last year Max was bigger… they would play and one time I saw Max run and grab Buddy like a lion grabbing a gazzel and bite and hold his neck in the same way and drag him down. He then held him with Buddy not able to breath. I had to kick him off and Buddy got up choking and coughing. It was straight out of Wild Kingdom. Buddy got bigger however and the wrestling got even… Buddy would pull him accross the linolium by his scalp or ear… the cat flat on his back. They loved it.

The coolest thing I have seen Max do is this. I was sitting in the living room watching TV and he was sitting on a sterio speaker. I noticed him being very still… only his head moving… I then realized that he was following the movements of a fly very intently. for 10 -15 minutes that cat moved only his head and never looked away from the fly. Suddenly he jumped off the speaker ran halfway accross the livingroom and jumped straight into the air leaving the ground and caught the fly in his two front paws. He landed with a thump on his side because… well… he couldn’t let go of that fly! He then proceded to shove it in his mouth and eat it. I thought “Damn, thats about the coolest thing I have ever seen. I wish I could do that!” L
Feel free to share about what makes or made your pet so special or the neat things they have done.

This will be my last cat post.

Go hug your furry ones. :slight_smile:

I had a lovebird named Cinnamon. She had a skin disease from hatching that left her with no feathers. None of the birds picked on her and we even gave her a pal, Bluebell. She couldn’t fly, but she didn’t care. She would waddle across the living room floor to my chair and crawl up the side using her beak and claws. She would then crawl up my chest to the pocket of my shirt. She would crawl into the pocket and stick her head out. She would sit like that for hours watching TV, making dinner, going to the store, everything. She liked the warmth the pocket provided. After about 2 years she started sitting in the corner of her cage shivering. Even with a heating pad under her cage. We eventually put her down. But damn that bird was cute. Like one of those animals that are SO ugly, they are cute.

Memories…

Condolences, Whammo, and per your request:

The thing I loved about my cat Fiona (who died in June) was that sometimes during the night, I would wake up and she would be there wanting a belly rub. She had this great round belly and she lllooovveedd the belly rub so much. You could tell she was as happy as it is possible to be at those moments.

The think I love about Katie (Fi’s sister, who has kidney disease but is doing well at present) is when she fetches. It is so cute!

{{Whammo}}

My favorite memory of my stray kitty: Once, when he was eating, I lay down on the floor across from him and his food bowl, and watched him eat. My dad always told me that cats don’t like being watched or touched while they eat, so I wasn’t sure what he’d do. He eyed me for a second, and then continued eating. He didn’t mind at all. When he was done eating, he got up and walked over to me and licked my nose. He had cat food breath, but it was so cute of him to do that that I didn’t mind at all.

When I was a kid, we had a cat named Cat. He was one of those indoor/outdoor cats.

Every day at four o’clock, we gave him a package of Whisker Lickens. That was his big treat for the day. If he didn’t get his treat he would hang around next to the counter that was just below the cupboard. If someone didn’t come and get his treat out for him within a couple of minuted, he would jump up on the counter and try to open the cupboard and get it himself.

We ended up having to give Cat away because my mother developed asthma. Shortly afterward, word came back that Cat had been hit by a car…

So sorry about Max. Poor kitty.

But I’ll only tell one.

My cat Sunshine was taken from his mother way too early. he developed a nursing habit that never went away. He would climb on top me me at night and nurse on my ear, on my finger tips, or on my lower lip. He would drool and make biscuits. And if I let him, he would do this for an hour at a time. I never let him go that long, but I would indulge him for a few minutes. It was really endearing.

He has been gone for a little over a year now, taken from me way too soon, and I miss him terribly.

…well… Max didn’t cook… hell he couldn’t even pour his own food. …bu I loved him anyway. :wink:

Whammo, you saw it when Max left his body . . . and began his new life, in which he can be always near you. He’s not alone.

Emily is still with us, we know. She was so smart! How smart was she? you ask. Here’s our favorite illustration of how smart she was. The last few years she was on medication that made her process water more quickly: she drank more and she peed more. So we had to be sure to keep her water dish full – but sometimes she’d empty it on us. Of course she would then do what comes naturally to dogs: drink out of the toilet. And we would hear the lid go flip, and we’d come and fill her dish.

Well, Emily paid attention to that. It wasn’t too long before she would go into the bathroom, flip the lid, and immediately peer out of the bathroom door to see if we were coming. No need to drink out of the toilet – she figured out how to call us! What a sweetheart.

And she had a million expressions with those floppy springer lips. She would use just about anything as a prop to make herself look as sad as possible, to con us into spoiling her. Lucky it didn’t take much – but she gave it her full effort.

She showed us her best trick, though, a few weeks after she was gone. Hubby and I had both been ill, and he had a horrid itchy burning yeast infection on his groin, caused by too much moist heat from the heating pad. It was enough to keep him awake most of the night. So early one morning he was lying in bed, one ear to the pillow, fully awake (the alarm had gone off once), watching Scout and me sleep and listening to us snore, trying to decide whether to spend the day suffering at work or at home. Suddenly, through the pillow, he very clearly heard a particular bark. Emily’s “play bark” – the little “woof” she used when she wanted us to come out, or when she wanted to come in, or when she wanted our attention. Neither of our other dogs bark like that – and besides, Scout was asleep in the same room and Buster, outside, barks like a beagle should.

Now neither of us, and particularly hubby, is given to emotional imaginings, religious ecstasy, or hallucinogenic drug use. We’re pretty straight and solid. But hubby and Emily were so strongly bonded in life that we both believe she found a way to come to him in his misery and tell him she was still there. Some kind of psychic bonding, I dunno. But it happened.


What of our other pets?

BJ was afraid of {bare} floors ever since he came sailing into the house right after hubby’s sister had waxed the kitchen floor, lost his footing, and slammed into the wall. After that he would tiptoe through, stepping on any scrap of rug or paper (the place was a mess) that would keep him from touching the dreaded floor until he was safe on the carpeting.

Benji (BJ’s dad) would not eat a treat unless it was presented to him with some ceremony. He would not eat even the most tempting thing he found on the floor. Emily, however, would happily gobble out of a bag of biscuits left on the floor.

Riley the one-eyed lovebird was constantly laying eggs and had an “egg song” she would sing to them. It was really annoying. She was a vicious little bastard, contrary to her name, and died after becoming eggbound one too many times. She was cute, though.

I could go on and on, but I’d better give someone else a turn. Whammo and everyone else who’s lost a furry (or feathered, or finned) one, as long as you remember them, they live on.

Whammo -
So sorry to hear about your cat - it made me very sad, as I remember burying our cat last year.

The funny thing about my cat was, he was either the dumbest or the laziest. ( but very well loved )
he loved to lay in the driveway. When I would come home, I would try to pull in, yet, he would not move. I could honk at him - but he just laid there and looked at me.
So, I would have to put the car in park, get out, move the cat to the side, then get back in the car, and park in the driveway.

He was the best cat in the world - and I miss him :frowning:

DANG! Now I’m crying !

note to self : Don’t let hubby see you crying about
the cat that died over a year ago… he wanted me to get over that! :frowning:

Mamma came to us as a kitten, very pretty, white with black, gray and orange markings, and full of fleas. I bathed her in the kitchen sink, under the faucet, and she tolerated it well.

When my husband and I had to travel out of state for a funeral, my mom and dad came over to watch the kids and the animals.

First night away, I called to see how they were all doing.

This from my frazzled mom: Tracy got mad at Barry and threw his clothes out the window, there was a call from school about Chris – some kid took his lunch money at knifepoint, Mike isn’t doing his homework (says you don’t have any in 8th grade), and do you really let the cat sleep in the kitchen sink?

Of course we do. We’ve never had a cat that wasn’t perfect. They all look and act different, but they’re all perfect.

Two days ago my two dogs got into a fight with a gopher. It was about 2 feet long and had beaver teeth. They had it pinned in a corner and would have killed it then and there, but my brother tryed to seperate them and as it was running away my dog Tina(sheppard mix, 2 years old) bit it and it turned around and took a chunk out of her nose. She was screaming and licking up the blood, it was painful to watch and funny at the same time because it was a minor wound. My dog Scruffy(8 years old, mutt, 1/2 Tina’s size) charged it and shoulder blocked the critter to the ground and mauled it to death. She is Tina’s hero now. Tina refuses to go outside without her.

While I was still living at home, my family had a greyhound named Lady Guinevere. She was a beautiful gray and white spayed female, who had not had puppies before she was spayed. We also had two female cats who took turns producing litters of kittens (before we eventually also had them spayed). From each new litter of kittens, Lady would pick a favorite and “adopt” it, carry it around, cuddle with it and sleep with it. The mother cats grew used to this and would go retrieve the stray when it was feeding time. Later in life Lady adopted Bootsie, a persian male, black with white socks, for her best friend.

In my home now we have a 22# neutered male longhaired cat, Norman, who carries superballs (very small, bouncy balls that come from vending machines) in his mouth and cries when he has lost them all under the oven. He also likes to watch television and bat at the characters moving on the screen.

Grainne the Pirate was the best cat I ever had. She was a tiny tortoiseshell – just seven pounds – and very brave. It’s hard to describe exactly what she was like. She was “all cat,” the least “human” cat I ever had. If she sat on your lap or slept on the bed it was like a gift, like having something wild do you a great honor. I had her for three years, and I adored her beyond all good sense.

Don’t feel bad, Stormi; a year is not a long time. Grainne was stolen four years ago, and I miss her every single day.

Catrandom

I had a cat that someone took to the “animal shelter” to die.
She had been hit by a car and was not going to survive.
When I got there (she had a tag, so they called me), I learned she had been put into a “decompression chamber”, where they pump out the air. From what I know about airplanes and decompression, that is not a pleasant way to go, but it is very quick.

I didn’t want her to go into their dumpster, so I let her out of my plane over water.

Well… hmmm… animal stories… (does that include children?)

We have lots of animals.

Zipper the cat(1983?-1988). Orange. Striped. Weighed oh, about 70lbs. (slight exageration) He used to like to fight. Fight me. He’d wait around a corner then as I passed, he’d lunge out and tackle me. A good old style football tackle that brought me down four times out of five. Then he’d jump on me and pummell me. (claws retracted, he knew what they could do) He was soon legend within the small town, as others who visited my apartment who bugged him (by calling him cute or trying to pet or play with him) usually left bleeding. He was very cool.

Iko (1987-1998) and Saki. My wife’s twin cats. After 4 years I still couldn’t tell them apart. They were human. (Saki still is - Iko passed away in 98) Saki bears with blatant disdain the influx of dogs and other cats. sigh. But we won’t talk about that. He’s old (13yrs) but I finally helped him catch a mouse a few months ago. He was very proud to have caught it but hadn’t a clue what to do with it once he had and lost interest. Close but no cigar. On the other hand, Saki is a hero as he saved my wife’s life during a house fire, so we’ll let the mouse thing go.

Kesh(1996-1998) Ever seen a sign that says “Free Puppies”? Hehhehehehehe. It’s not true. Dylan and I had been talking about getting a dog for some time and when we saw that sign…

$300 within three days. Including roundworm medication. Ever seen a roundworm?

Smart dog, good judge of character.

Hit by car. :frowning:
Charmander(1999- June, 2000). Stupid dog. Moron. Big black lab/Bernese Mountain dog - beautiful. Found abandoned by highway and sigh taken in. Had some sort of brain tumor and suffered progressively worse seizures. Horrible. Loved that stupid dog.

Smoky. (2000 - soon) Psycocat. Damian. Ever seen Devil Dog; Hound of Hell? This grey, long-haired, dust-mop makes the dog look like a pussy. My ex got fed up with it spraying and attacking her, but my son is really attached so once again… suckered. Now we are fed up too, but will opt for a spaying as opposed to ditching. Yet again… suckered.Maybe a declawing if we don’t stop finding bits and tufts of Saki all over the place.

Princess. sigh We got her when I was four. I remember being in the car with Mom, holding the box with the little brown nose of a Siamese kitten poking out the sides.

This may sound sad or even a little disturbed, but Princess was my best friend for the earlier parts of my childhood. I was very emotionally isolated, and the resulting loneliness was overwhelming. But…Princess slept with me–tucked under my arm like a teddy bear–every night. When I was sick, she kept constant company. When I was heartbroken from the cruelty of children, she would carefully tip-toe up to my shaking body and mew in what I swear sounded like concern. Despite the clumsy, childish cruelty I would sometimes subject to her, she was endlessly forgiving.

My grandmother recently asked about her: “What was the name of that cat you had growing up? The one that used to follow you around like a dog? That cat loved you.” Yes…she did. And I still love her and am grateful to her.

She did a trick: she rolled over on her side. Pat the ground, and she would flop over on her side in return for the reward of affectionate petting. She also would meow, sortof–you would see her sides compress and her mouth open, the “me” unvoiced, and the “-ow” sounding almost like a cough.

Princess died after a long series of devastating strokes when I was 21, and she was 17. My parents put her down when I was out of the country, and I still feel robbed of the opportunity to say goodbye–and more importantly, thank you–to that silly little feline who was the best example of unconditional love in my early life. I thank God for her.

Thank you fofr the opportunity to remember and revere her, Whammo, and those like her.

Just got smacked by Dylan for forgetting the newest member of our family:

Karos (1856- ) Ok, so he’s not that old, but he’s old. He’s a shepardish dog, mixed with god knows what… maybe lab. We got him from a shelter where he’d spent the last 8 yrs of his life. He’s got cataracts and arthritis and is quite fat. He had been attacked several months ago by another dog and still has big shaved patches on his back. So of all the dogs in that place (like 200 dogs- it was insane) he’s the one that got taken home.

I swear he’s the perfect dog. Very good with the kids. He’s so happy not to be in that shelter. He lounges around all day and I swear his tail hasn’t stopped wagging since he got here. He doesn’t jump up or freak out or anything. He barked at the mailman, but that’s it. And it wasn’t like a big neighbourhood disturbing bark. It was more like a loud “Guff”. He’s great.

A walk around the yard tuckers him out. I can out run him, hands down. The house training is coming along quite well. (there were a few casualties; grateful dead cds, Dylan’s altar, a few books and pictures, part of the carpet, a bag of cement).

He really appreciates being here. We like having having a dog that’s not nuts.

He’s horribly afraid of rain. At the shelter, which was very poorly funded, there were great big, gaping holes in the roof, and some of the dogs just basically got soaked, or snowed on or whatever. Anyway first our first thunderstorm with him had one of us up all night with him, trying to give some comfort.

The other day, he comes up to me, wagging his tail and glancing plaintively at the door. “I gotta pee,” is etched all across his poor, doggy face. So I get his leash and his tail wags faster. He’s happy that I’ve figured it out so quickly and leads me to the door. I open the door. He takes one step out, sees that it’s raining and literally drags me all through the house to huddle under the kitchen table.

It was kinda funny, as he didn’t run. He just walked very swiftly. Like a bulldozer. I weigh 176lbs, but I might as well have been a feather. He decided to ‘hold it’.

{{{{Whammo}}}}

My cat Machavelli streches all the way out on his back on the kitten floor first thing when I get up to get a belly rub. If I try to step over him, he grabs on to my foot and continues to follow me around attacking my feet until I pet him. It is very cute. :slight_smile:

Can’t wait to get home to see my cat.

I had to help my best friend take her cat Patty Pussykins to the vet yesterday to be put to sleep. She was fourteen and had been the one thing my friend could count on.

Patty was a wonderful cat who was affectionate, cute, smart, and a damn good feline to have around. Patty had diabetes, and she had ceased to eat. Putting her down was as hard for me as it was for my friend.

I had to put my cat down March 1999. Catbert was cute as hell, smart, and the best cat I have ever had. I didn’t know what was wrong with her, but when I noticed that when she curled up next to me to sleep, she was there in the morning in the same place. She also ceased to eat, I fed her with an eye dropper, which she hurled up.

I took her to the vet, found out that there was little they could do. She was in the last stages of feline hepatitis.
I held her as the doctor put her to sleep. I loved that cat dearly, and I still feel the loss.