The day has finally come….yesterday, my dad had to make the painful decision of putting our cats down to sleep. They were 19 years old which means they have lived in three different states and something like 8 different homes. They have been around and been companions through incredible highs and lows. It’s crazy how I can pretend not to really care that much about animals, but I think it’s more of a protective thing. I remember after Kisha died I told myself I wasn’t going to love anybody else again in my life – there were already enough people that I loved that I would have to lose and I didn’t want to go through it any more than I had to. Why is is that loving and losing hurts so bad? Even when it is ‘just animals’. And especially since everything and everyone will die in His own timing…
They were a part of our family; my parents even jokingly ‘shared custody’ after their divorce. I don’t really know what to say to sum it all up. There have been a lot of tears shed by four people over the last two days, especially my poor dad who had to go by himself with the kitties to the vet. They both passed on at the same time and my dad left with tears streaming down his face.
Some memories I have:
-Picking them out from the farm’s litter in Indiana. I knew from the moment I saw Frisky that she was mine! However, she was a little, well, Frisky – and ran all over the farm (hence her name). Becca saw Cookie and immediately chose him as well – and he put up quite the chase too. The owners were a little concerned because Cookie had fallen off the 6′ rabbits’ cage when he was born and weren’t sure what the damage was.
-Anybody who knows Cookie knows that there was some sort of ‘damage’. That poor cat could never run at full speed without veering sideways. And over the past few years, poor thing couldn’t even shake himself off without falling over sideways. It was pretty endearing though. I believe it was my friend Clare who did a great impression of Cookie.
-I could dress Frisky up in clothes, jam a pacifier in her mouth, and stuff her in a high chair and she would just let me have a photo shoot. She was so patient. Frisky had to live with me through my highly imaginative childhood and I’d like to say she enjoyed every minute, but hey, we must have done something right – she made it 19 years!
-I also remember the first weekend we had them was the weekend of the Indy 500. My parents were gone all day at the race and we had a babysitter. A few hours in, we realized we couldn’t find the cats! We searched high and low – through the field in our backyard, scouring the streets, etc. My parents came home to two devasted kids and a distraught babysitter. Hours later, we found them stuck behind the refrigerator in the garage!
-At dinner one time, we were all enjoying our meal when we heard what sounded like lightning! We all looked at each other and wondered what it was and we ran upstairs to find that Cookie had fallen into the bathtub that was still full! Out ran a scared – and soaked – cat!
They really were some of the sweetest cats. They were great little cuddlers and were more ‘dog-like’ than cats. They had very unique personalities and were very well loved by our family, particularly my dad over the past five years. He’d have his morning ritual of eating breakfast out on the porch with them, petting them, talking to them. Then he’d come home to their meowing faces waiting not so patiently at the glass door for dinner where he’d enjoy a nighttime ritual of petting, brushing, and catching up with them.
They were definitely well loved. And now they are very much missed.