I buried my cat yesterday.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

{{{Whammo}}}

I met my lifelong friend, a Siamese named Pooky, when I was seven. She was my best friend, companion, and nanny. She always slept with me and would come out to find me at bedtime. She’d glare at me until I gave up on whatever I was doing and went to bed. She always wanted to know what I was doing. She’d help me do my homework by sitting on my books. When I brushed my teeth, she’d demand her own dixie cup of water to drink. She loved me so much and was so devastated when I went away to college. I am so grateful that my parents moved down here. I moved back in and was able to spend the last two years of Pooky’s life by her side.

{Oh, damn. Now I’m crying so hard I can barely type}

We had to put Pooky to sleep two years ago. She developed cancer on her belly and the vet didn’t feel she would survive the surgery because of her advanced age. (she was 15) That was and still is the most painful day of my life.

Pooky still visits me sometimes in my dreams where she’s happy and healthy again. I get to pick her up and stroke her and she purrs so contentedly. God, I miss her.

chrisbar

22

That made me cry too, but what a beautiful life your cat had, and what wonderful parents you have.

23

I am sitting here at work, trying to hold back the tears, but only because of my surroundings.

So here is the story of my current feline companion.

Fractal is so named because she is a totally random work of art. I don’t know the name of the breed, but she is mainly grey with dark stripes, with a white tummy and white socks on all four of her feet. She is also the most fastidiously clean and self groomed cat I have ever seen.

I met her at a friends’ house (who had a dozen cats at the time), and we became fast friends immediately.

So, for the funny story:
I was at this friends’ place for a shrimp dinner one evening, and Fractal stands beside me at the dinner table, not quite begging for food yet. Being the polite lady she is, she nonchalantly reaches up with one paw, and taps me twice on the arm, reminding me that she is waiting there for attention of the seafood sort. So, I peel her a shrimp, which she absolutely loves. I eat another, and she taps me on the arm again. Being engaged in conversation, I ignore the tap, as I peel a third shrimp. Seeing that I was not giving her my undivided attention, she gently reaches out with that same paw, hooks it around my wrist, and proceeds to try and drag my arm within her range. I find this very cute, so I allow her to do that, and she politely removes the crustacean from my fingers. The evening devolved into me having one, and then her getting one! And she ate as much that night as I did. Finally having her fill, she waddles out into the living room, resembling a bowling ball on four legs that happens to be wearing a fur coat. She dropped heavily on her side, and let out a deep sigh, loud enough for all of us around the table to hear it plainly…

I acquired her companionship when my friend was moving, and wanted me to keep her for a few weeks. When they came to pick her up, she hid behind and just under my waterbed, and refused to come out for anything, including treats. My friend told me that she had just chosen where she wanted to live, and that he understood it completely.

That was five years ago, and we have been inseperable since. She greets me in the morning with a cheerful meow, and RUNS in front of me to flop on the floor for a petting. The same occurs every evening when I arrive from work. She always comes running when I say her name, hops on my lap and “makes biscuits” as Michi put it…

O

Sutra Self!

24

wow. something tells me max is up there in kitty heaven, pooping in a big ol’ porcelin litterbox, spraying litter all over god’s bathroom floor, and having a grand old time.

my cat stories:
nicky (1975-1988) - the greatest cat of all time. black and white (like all my cats), with a nicked ear (his trademark). had endless patience with kids, loved to hunt, brought back snakes, rabbits, birds, anything smaller than him. contracted feline leukemia and had to be put to sleep.

li’l max (1988-?) - the meanest cat of all time. would viciously attack passersby for no reason. if he was too tired to attack, he would just hiss from across the room. not sure how this happened, although he did spend his formative months in a frat house. dad finally had enough and took max for a ‘ride’ out in the country. fate unknown.

oswald (1996-present) - not as nice as nicky, not nearly as mean as li’l max. this cat is the master of relaxation. sleeps on his back a lot with his tail curled up between his legs. spent a lot of time outside until we moved recently, but only once did i see him catch any small creatures - a lizard. great climber, too.

25

My wife and me rescued a days old kitten that had been abandoned by the mother, we nursed it, and he grew to be a very large cat. He was very territorial, it was his house, we were allowed in, but he was very wary of anyone else. He went with us to DC, where he went through this transformation, he suddenly became a verry snobby kitty. He would always find the mo-hair blanket, only the finest foods. His favorite was prosciutto, he wouldn’t touch the cheap kind, only fresh cut dean and delucca. He knew when we were upset, he would climb on my chest and just purr.

Unfortunatelly he was killed by a dog last year.

to make up for the loss, we had to get 2 australian shepperds, another cat would only pale in comparrison.

26

I was a little worried that I might offend you with my suggestion of taxiderming poor Max, but nobody seemed to think I was being an asshole. I meant it. I have had many pets of my own, but mostly small animals.

I love my rat very much. His name is…well, it’s Turpentine. A friend of mine wrote a song about Turpentine and it’s a very sweet song, very relaxing too. When i pick him up, I sing it to him. It’s obvious that Turpentine knows that I’m his mommy and when I come home and turn on the light he comes out of his little carboard box house and jumps in his cage, trying to get out so he can greet me.

I also have a giant black millipede named William. I didn’t think so either, but yes, it is possible to love a millipede. He eats fruit and his legs move in this fascinating undulating fashion. Many people are afraid to try it, but if you let William walk up your arm, it’s the tingliest, coolest feeling in the world- it’s like someone tickling you with a toothbrush. Once when I had no fruit to feed William, i just plopped a spoonful of rasberry jam in the cage. It was so cute! He didn’t quite know what to do with it and he tried to grab it with about ten of his front legs and it got all over his little diplopodic face and antennae. He really enyoed it, though.

I know that millipedes and cats are not quite the same, but you can love them both.

27

I forgot to add that losing my cat was very difficult, but what was the worst, was telling my 5 year old daughter that the cat had died.

She loved that cat. She would dress it, push it around in the doll stroller, and could never pass the cat without stopping and petting it. She loves cats.
Unfortunately, it died right in front of her.
Walked in the house, had a seizure and died right there.
Everyone else was outside working in the yard.
My poor baby girl had to see this, and it broke her heart.
And mine.

Now, she has a new cat, and loves it to pieces.
Recently it became sick, and I had to take it to the vet.
My H thought it would be easier if we just got a new cat,a free one - rather than spend money this one ( not a cat lover lol )
I said nooooo… I will not break my daughters heart…

The cat is now on medication, and is doing wonderful.
I hope he lives a very long time, for my cat loving daughters sake.

28

Where did you get your millipede? I think that is so cool. Does a millipede bite people ever, or have venom?

(Sorry for the hi-jack.)

29

** Spider Woman **

Hi. I am not sure if it’s a hijack if I’m still sharing info about my pet. If it is, I will stop.

At first I only bought the millipede because he was on sale and he looked really cool- he was eight inches long!

But when I took him home and made up his cage and put some fruit in there and gave him an empty turtle shell to hide in, I noticed that he had more personality than one would think a diplopod would possess. And I realized he needed a name. I picked William because that name written in cursive resembles a millipede. I also gave him a dignified name to show everybody that he was a person and not just something that i bought to look cool.

The lady at the petstore didn’t know what she was talking about- she said William was poisonous, but I doubted that. I looked up millipedes on the internet and found that she was wrong, and that there were a number of people who liked millipedes as pets (VERY easy to care for).
They don’t have venom, but they do have repugantory glands (I think that would be a cool band name) that make them taste foul to predators.
Maybe William understands somehow that I mean him no harm, because he has never released his stinky-stuff on me, not ever.
He has shit on me, though. It was the most massive amount of shit I have ever seen coming from an arthropod.

30

Thanks!

31

I was holding my dog Sydney J. in my arms when he died. He bled to death due to perforated ulcers. We were on the way to the Tufts hospital in MA, and he took a breath and just slowly exhaled – I could feel all the breath in his lungs leave him. It was a lot different from a regular exhalation, and I immediately knew he had died. We were only 15 minutes away from the hospital, but looking back I know that he wouldn’t have been able to survive.

I had dreams about him almost every night for a couple of years. One time I dreamed that I heard his little toenails tap-tap-tapping in the kitchen and went in, and upon seeing him realized that I hadn’t seen him in a long time and I was so happy and wondered where he had been.

He died 7 years ago and I still miss him. We are having his sister put to sleep in September, so they will get to see each other again in dog heaven, where the fields are full of daisies through which they can joyfully chase each other on never-ending summer days.

32

{{{Whammo}}}

In 1986, we got two Siamese kittens, Pretty Boy and Squirt (PB was named after a parakeet my parents had eons ago. Why? Who knows?). They were the cutest cats–PB had adopted me as his person, and Squirt went everywhere he went, so they were both mine. They slept overlapped in a circle and you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Pretty Boy was the sweetest, most mellow cat I ever saw–you could hold him upside down and he wouldn’t care. He used to have seizures and would be paralyzed for several minutes afterward and Squirt would sit next to him and cry. Eventually, at age 3 he developed a kidney problem and we had to put him to sleep.

Squirt, being the needy cat that she is, needed a companion. So we adopted Tyrone (named by his breeder) an Abyssinian with the world’s greatest attitude. Squirt groomed him constantly and coughed up so many hairballs she got laryngitis and could only make hacking noises instead of meows. Tyrone spent his nights hunting (in a studio apartment, this involves running from one end of the room to the other, jumping on mommy while she trys to sleep, and chasing Squirt around the room). Poor Tyrone had several chronic conditions that led to his death in my apartment of a heart attack at age 6.

Again, Squirt, 10 years old then, needed a new companion. So we adopted Jack at the Humane Society, a 1 year old tuxedo cat who couldn’t (and still can’t) sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. Fortunately, I now live with my husband in a larger apartment, so he has more room to run. He’s now 5, Squirt’s 14 and active and funny and fortunately, extremely healthy. We call her “the love sponge” because she needs to sit on people constantly to soak up all the love.

Jack is the world’s best fly catcher. He leaps very high (as much as 4 feet), toys with his flies and drops them off in the bathtub (his favorite place) when they’re dead and no longer fun to play with. He has also become quite the mouser, unfortunately because we have way too many mice. He toys with them until they’re exhausted, then my husband traps them in a humane trap and lets them go outside.

Ah, I love those guys.

33

Ceejaytee, one of my babies is like this too - “she’s so pliable,” I like to say. You can bend her or hold her upside down or pick up the bag she’s crawled into and swing it around. She just takes it all in, never protesting. And it’s not that she’s afraid or anything - she is just very secure and thinks nothing bad could happen to her. My biggest fear is that if she ever gets out, someone will be able to take her because she is so trusting and accomodating.

34

Whammo,
I have to say, this is probably the most wonderful tribute to a beloved pet I have ever seen!

Personally, I am a dog person. (actually, I love all animals, but I am allergic to cats)
my current critter is a border collie mix. He’s a sweet animal, and very protective. He’s 10 now, and he runs like the wind. He loves to “herd” people espeically children when he’s outside. He is also extremely intelligent and seems to take solving puzzles/problems as his personal mission.
As an example, we used to keep bread and chips and things like that on our kitchen counter, back against the wall, and far away from the reach of little puppy feet. He solved this problem by learning to open the kitchen drawers, and using them to climb up onto the counter (we’ve seen it… it’s scary).

My hugs to everyone’s little animal (and insect) friends. may they always know how much we love them.

-Pandora

35

Sorry about your kitty. He was very fortunate to have you as a family.
My cat fetches. He brings his favorite chse toy and drops it at my feet, so I’ll toss it for him. Sometimes, while I’m watching the tube, I’ll notice him sitting there, giving me that cat stare. I’ll look around and, sure enough, his toy will be laying there. When I throw it he chases it down and brings it back and drops it, ready for another toss. Weird, huh? For a cat?
He also likes to lay under the vert. blinds, positioning himself so that when he swishes his tail the blinds rattle. If he doesn’t get it right, he’ll re-position himself to get the desired effect.
You’re good people, whammo and GF.
Peace,
mangeorge

36

Whammo, so sorry to hear about Max. I’ve buried one cat and God willing it will be a long time before I have to do it again. I really love you idea about talking about our favorite pet things.

I believe my two cats, Tobermory and Road Warrior can understand a certain phrase I use. You see, they mostly get dry food to eat but sometimes I get them a can of soft food and when I do I utter the words “Treat treat” This lets them know it’s snack time. I never use the phrase without feeding them soft food, so they really know what it means. To test this I will wait until they are in another room them soundlessly take out the can, open it and say the magic words. I always hear them squawk “Meow!” and they come running. I have to walk carefully to their dishes, because Road Warrior, the younger one, keeps twining between my feet and crying to get fed faster.

37

I’m so sorry about your cat - we had to put our dog to sleep about a year ago, and I’m crying just thinking about it.

Buster was the dumbest dog you’ve ever seen. He once lost an epic battle to some ants. He could also pick blackberries off the bush, peeling back his lips to avoid the prickers. Even knew when they were ripe. My favorite story took place just before one Xmas. I heard a big CRASH, then saw Buster running like a bat out of hell to the opposite corner of the house, tinsel streaming from his tail. We put the tree back up and cleaned up the broken ornaments, but one of the strings of lights wouldn’t light. Went through the string looking for the bad one - finally found it…with teeth marks on either side. He never picked berries again.

Sweetie (named her when I was 8) was the opposite of Buster, extremely intelligent. She could climb a 5-foot fence, open a lever action door knob, and had a specific bark for the UPS truck. She was great with children, not so good with strange dogs. The only thing she was afraid of was thunder storms, during which she would come looking for any human, very sheepishly. She died in her sleep two years ago, and I still miss her.

38

My condolences for your loss of Max.

My pooch is a sheperd/collie mix who occasionally answers to Duchess, when it suits her fancy. She’s pretty smart, and likes to surprise me. I’ve never let her wander off her leash, because once she managed to find the back gate open and she was missing for days. Seems she went for a strooll, and when it started raining, she just ran in the first open door she saw, which was several blocks from the house.

However, I took her on a trip with me this past week to a friend’s cottage, and while I was taking a shower she nosed her way out the front door, walked around the house, and showed up at the back door where my friend saw her and let her in.

I recently met one of my neighbors in the apartment building in which I currently live who also moved to this building mainly because this building allows dogs regardless of size. What we do for our pets sometimes surprises me. But I have figured out that Duchess has trained me more than I’ve trained her!

39

Happy stories only:

Punkin watches baseball. He’ll watch other sports, but when baseball is on, that cat will sit on the footstool of hubby’s recliner and stare at the TV.

Molly will do anything to be petted (but only when SHE wants to be petted) including trying to get on your lap while you’re on the toilet, or half crawling into the bathtub with you.

Trouble is my teddybear. He sleeps curled up by my shoulder. He’s my old guy and I will so miss him when he is gone.

Ladybug, my dog destroys her stuffed toys after usually about a week, then I get to pick up all the stuffing from the toy that she leaves all over the rug.