Pet Wake

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

As some of you might know if you’re keeping tabs on the Decembrants thread, Cat Whisperer and I lost our oldest cat, Max, this week.

While we’re both very saddened by the departure of our feisty little girl, I’m trying really hard to focus on and celebrate the great things about her.

Please share good memories and anecdotes about your dearly departed companion animals. I’ll start:

Max was a very bright kitty and was pretty quick to figure stuff out, even if the plans didn’t always work out as expected. At a young age, she came to the conclusion that if whining and crying was not enough to get me to let her into the bedroom at night, then perhaps a bribe might do the trick. So one morning, when I opened the door, I found my Dogbert bean bag toy sitting at the door. It was very cute and resourceful (and I didn’t think she could get up on my desk at that point), so she got extra cuddles that day. She did not, however, get to spend the night in the bedroom.

The next morning, I found Dogbert back at the door, along with a Nerf ball.

While the cunning plan never did earn her bedroom privileges, she did eventually reach the conclusion that presents earned her extra attention and so over the years I was frequently presented with the Nerf ball (until it was destroyed and I had to replace it with a new bag of Nerf balls) or my Nerf bat (I have a lot of toys. Shut up.) in exchange for cuddles and skritchies. It was always irresistibly cute to see my cat hauling a foam bat as big as her around the house; I really had no choice but to reward her.

Your turn. :slight_smile:

2

So sorry for your loss, Dread Pirate Jimbo and Cat Whisperer. It can be very hard to figure out when to say goodbye, but sometimes we’re in tune with our kitties to understand when they “tell” us. Her thing with the Nerfs was adorable and sweet.

I said goodbye to my little Bunnie in 2008. She was this 9-pound ball of fluff. She trusted me so much that when she got picked on by the oldest boy, instead of hiding like most cats do, she would run to me and leap into my arms. If she couldn’t feel she could run past him, she would just yell for me to come get her. Which I did, of course. Never met a cat before or since that sought human protection like that. I called her Bunnie because she ran with both back feet together like a rabbit, and sat up on her butt with front feet in the air when she was “at attention” and listening to outside noise. She was a very quiet and unassuming little girl, just near me all the time and slept next to my pillow every night.

Katydid was a hellion. I met her at the shelter when I was a volunteer and no one could touch her. She was one of the few cats I’ve met in my career who managed to scare me - that’s one of maybe 5 in my 13-year career working with cats. She lived at the shelter for 4 years, (time during which I became an employee) eventually progressing to the first floor where friendlier but medically needy (IBD for her) or older cats live. She got a little more approachable, but only with an abundance of caution on the part of the person. Except for me. I still don’t understand it, and never will. She somehow got attached to me, and would greet me at the door when I got to work, and hang out in the clinic, sleeping on chairs and slurping up canned food in the sink while I was on shift. I was the only person who could physically handle her, as in pick her up and move her if needed, or give medication without too much fuss. Anyone else, and she had the fastest swat you’ve ever seen. You’d get sliced and diced before you even realized she was doing it.

I thought she was a “clinic cat” - a few just take up that area as their territory during their stay as they seem to dig the frequent opening of cans of food and the hustle and bustle of all the people in and out of there all day. But eventually someone pointed out to me that she wasn’t really a clinic cat - she was only in there during my shifts, and didn’t even go near the room when I wasn’t there. Well, that did it. I had space, and she obviously needed to come home with me. She came home in 2005. She was as weird at home as she was at the shelter, but she was happy. She slept between my feet every night, even though I constantly moved them and kicked her through the covers. She was with me until 2009 when her IBD caught up with her and became intestinal cancer. Six months later she missed a meal and that was all I needed to know it was time.

Amazing to me how all these different cats have such different stories, and they get into our hearts in different ways. Thanks, man, now there’s some dust in my eye or something.

3

I am very sorry for your loss, Dread Pirate Jimbo and Cat Whisperer. My beloved companion of 18 years, Kitsy Quatl Jenkins, died just a few months back. I loved with her longer than I lived with my parents (or anybody else, for that matter). I called her Kitsy Quatl because of her shape-shifting moods. I added ‘Jenkins’ later because “can’t nobody say nuthin’ bad about Mizz Jenkins” from In Living Color.

4

I’m sorry for your loss.
I’ve lost 2 Maxs over the last few years. They were both smart, but in different ways. Max the elder understood things very quickly. He knew the door knob opened the door, but without thumbs he couldn’t quite manage it. He could open cabinets and some drawers. He wasn’t a big guy, so it had to be a drawer that matched his weight. He would fetch toys. I would tell him what toy I wanted and he’d bring it. He could tell time. He was allowed to go outside at 8:00 PM every night. He had to return at 9:00 PM. If it was earlier than 8:00, he’d stop at the open door and stare into my eyes. Then he’s sit down. Of course, if the door stayed open more than 3 minutes, he couldn’t resist.
One of those early evenings, he went out after asking if I was sure and got hit by our next door neighbor. :frowning: No kitties were allowed outside after that.

Max the younger was a big lout. He tried to bully the two girls from the moment he entered the house. He was about 6 ounces them, maybe a little more. He learned to “sit” and “shake”. He died very suddenly, the vet said probably from a stroke.

Now we just have our two girls. Cassy and Lil’. They are 13 and 12 and as active and happy as they were as kittens. When it’s their time, we will make it as easy as we can for them. Until then, we will enjoy them.

5

Right up until the end, I thought you were talking about your two daughters. :slight_smile:

6

Cool stories so far. :slight_smile:

SeaDragonTattoo, Bunnie sounds like she was a real sweetheart. And Katydid reminds me of our very first family cat when we were growing up – hated most people (all other living creatures, really) after a rough childhood, but grew to tolerate my dad and frequently sit next to him and allow a certain amount of petting.

Boyo Jim, Kitsy Quatl Jenkins sounds like a great friend. They really can shape-shift, can’t they?

picunurse, that’s so sad to lose two Maxs. Both sound like they had excellent personalities. Hopefully Cassy and Lil’ give you lots more time and love.

:slight_smile:

7

Here’s my previously-posted Eulogy for a Small Parrot.

8

I have lost so many beloved pets thru the years. You would think that we get used to it, but no, each one leaves a gaping hole in my heart.

Here are a few:

Holly, my first Gordon Setter, first show dog, mother of my first litter. Holly was born an old soul; at 8 weeks, she came to me almost fully house trained.She was never really playful, her idea of fun was obedience training. When I showed her, my first dog I had trained, she was ranked second in the nation in novice obedience. I didn’t so uch TRAIN Holly as… remind her. She was a worrier, mothered anything smaller than she was. She was my first :heart: dog.

Abbie was her daughter that I kept. Abbie had brain damage and was a puppy mentally until she died at 12 and a half. Abbie loved to play, was occasionally naughty, and liked to go to sleep sucking on my wrist.

Corey was my first Gordon boy. He hated the show ring, tolerated obedience, did agility in slow motion, and couldn’t figure out that as a Setter, he wasn’t supposed to CHASE the birds. What Corey excelled in was being a therapy dog. We visited nursing homes, libraries & schools regularly and he was the perfect dog for the ‘job’, quiet, gentle and loving. He lived to be 14 and a half, a ripe old age for a Gordon.

Then came Fancy, my wild child Gordon. Fancy could not stand still, she was constant go-go-go! And she was super smart… Scary smart. She was a FUN dog, the dog that made you think. She loved to perform- in the show ring, obedience, agility, as a therapy dog. We developed a little act we did for the therapy visits, with off lead heeling, subtly given hand signals, retreiving, picking up odd items from the floor like my ‘dropped’ keys and money. And the grand finale’ was Fancy and her Samoyed friend Stoli playing leapfrog! Everybody loved Fancy. She had vitalago, which gave her strange, swirly white patches in her black, and my vet dubbed her ‘the Setter so sweet God sprinkled her with sugar’.

Jay was my first Papillon, and he was my second true :heart: dog. He wasn’t a show dog, didn’t do obedience or agility. He was just my little shadow, my companion. Where I went, Jay was there. I lost him in 2007 to congestive heart failure at the age of 10. Far, far too young.

Most recently, there was Cricket, another Papillon. Again, ‘just’ a companion, but she was such a character! She would stand on her head to make you laugh. She loved carrying a small stuffie around with her at all times and would use it as a pillow. I called her my little Bean, and she was a roughneck, playing tug and fetch with the best of them.

I miss them all so much, my pack from the past.

I just wanted to add that I am enjoyng all the stories of your wonderful pets, and I am so sorry for all the losses. That is the only bad thing about owning pets…

9

One of my favourite memories of Max was from this summer. Max liked to stretch up and claw Dread Pirate Jimbo’s pants (fortunately he was almost always in jeans), and one day her claws got stuck. Jim started walking slowly around the living room, with a kitty attached to his pants, walking along on her hind legs with him. I thought I was going to hurt myself, I was laughing so hard at this show. :smiley:

10

I went to a wake for my friend’s dog Elwood. The strange thing is that the dog was there and alive. She had some form of cancer that would kill her quite painfully so they decided to have her put down before it got bad. We all gathered at the pub for a few beers and a chance to say goodbye to her. A very beery and teary afternoon.

11

Of the pets I have loved and lost, little Sassy was possibly the worst. For those who didn’t see the thread, I found her under the bonnet of my car after hearing her mewing when I was going to bed one night - I didn’t actually find her till the next morning, because I couldn’t figure out where there mewing was coming from (I didn’t know car engines were still cat accessable these days).

So there she was, this teeny scrap of dirty grey fur with gummed up eyes, she didn’t like being picked up and brought into the house, but she calmed down pretty quick and my mother didn’t voice any objections. She (Sassy, not my mother) learned how to use the litter tray straight away, and figured out how to get up on my lap and make herself comfy in front of the laptop.

I fully intended to keep her, but there was obviously something wrong with her. Several trips to the vet later she was found to have an enlarged heart and badly damaged lungs, she was so small it was near impossible to treat her, and after ten days of fighting with everything we had, she died in my arms at the vets.

R.I.P. Sassy :heart: :frowning:

12

Kitteh conga line! :slight_smile:

Max was a big fan of getting people’s attention through the liberal use of her claws and on that particular occassion she got a claw lodged in my jeans (thankfully not in my leg), so I figured it was time to teach her about consequences (the lesson didn’t take).

Thanks for the other remembrances, folks. Sailboat, that was a very nice tribute to your birdie and it sounds like you went to great lengths to keep it happy and healthy. PapSett, it sounds like you have had several very nice doggies. kferr, that is an very interesting idea, having a wake before the pet passes so you can give it a proper goodbye. And Corcaigh, it sounds like Sassy had a brief but well loved time in your care. :slight_smile:

13

Sorry to hear the news guys.

14

We lost Harvey November 8th. I posted about him here.

The abbreviated version: Harvey knew when it was getting near bedtime, and he would nag me to go to bed. When I did head in that direction, he was so excited! We had our little ritual for bedtime, where he would tear into the kitchen, then come to my door when I went in my room. At first, he’d run off again when I’d invite him in. Later, he’d mosey in. After some petting and a bath, and when he was sure I was safe in bed, he’d get up and open the door (I had a shoe behind it to keep it from being wide open) and go back to the living room to be with ‘mom’.

His best trick was that he knew not to wake the humans. He was very patient and polite that way.

Dread Pirate Jimbo, I’m sorry to hear of your loss. Believe me, I know how it feels. :frowning:

15

My boy Kelly lived to be 18. He went suddenly, having never been sick. I had twin beds in my room, and he slept under the other one.

Every morning I would wake up and look over where I would see his tail sticking out from under the bed. I would say “I see a tail!” and the tail would start to thump on the carpet. thumpthumpthump. Then he would reorient himself under the bed so only his nose was poking out. And I would say “I see a nose!” and I could hear his tail from the other side. thumpthumpthump.

And then he would come out and come over to give me a kiss. But not till we played our morning game. He died almost 23 years ago and I miss his thumpthumpthump still.

16

Just 2 days ago, my 9 year old son’s first warm-blooded pet died. Rosie the Rat.

He took it better than I thought, because they were genuinely tight. I never imagined my wife would ever bring home a rat… but she’s the type to do extensive research before any purchase, and her studies indicated that a rat would be an ideal pet for our son.

Sure enough, she was. Unlike most rodents, rats don’t tend to bite and they tend to enjoy interaction with people (whereas gerbils, for instance, who are a lot of fun to watch, but don’t much care for people and will bite when given the chance).

She was curious, affectionate, outgoing, playful… a sweet little thing we’re all going to miss.

17

Thanks, I absolutely adored her! She was so cute, I was washing her bum after she’d had diarrhoea, and she kept squeaking and running away, then coming back so I could wipe again, squeak, run, come back. Over and over till she was cleaned up!

18

I lost my little 4 year old cockatiel in October. I had hand raised her from 3 weeks old and she was quite the pistol. Whenever I made dinner, I always set aside a leaf or two of my salad, or several grains of corn, or a small spoonful of peas. Now when I dish up those things, there’s still a momentary hesitation of the spoon or fork, before I realize there’s no need to set anything aside :(.

I miss the spoiled screeching when I’d get home and she’d impatiently “yell” at me to let her out already, the absolutely spot on microwave noise if I so much as opened the fridge for some water, the “good night noise” (we could never figure out where she’d gotten it and she only did it when being covered up for the night), her yelling “Cricket!” at the dog if the dog was getting into trouble for chasing the cat, and so many other little things I’m reminded of every day.

Sigh… …

How can something that little leave such a big hole in your heart?

19

Oh no!! I’m so sorry the two of you lost Max. I hadn’t seen the latest thread, but I remember CW asking about how to help Max a few months ago. My condolences. :frowning:

I lost my 19 year-old soul mate kitty Tickle on July 31. I miss her so much, and will really miss her playing in the Christmas wrapping papers (even last year).

It is comforting to know that so many here understand the human/critter bond.

20

I’m very sorry for your loss. :frowning:

When we had to let our 5-year-old Russian Blue, Meep, go after a battle with feline lymphoma, we got a little book and wrote down all the happy things we remembered about her. It was a help.

My favorite Meep story: I used to have a dance pad in one of our spare rooms, which I used to play DDR for exercise. Meep loved to watch me do this, and sometimes she’d stand up on her hind legs like she wanted to jump into my arms. One night I leaned down to encourage her do to this and she did! I held her there and she purred away as I played for maybe 5 minutes before asking me to set her back down. My kitty danced with me!

Meep died in 2005 and I’m still sad when I think about her. I love all my kitties, but she was my baby.