By Labor Day 2001, we were at the Moore's house for a party. The same kittens were their's and were there and they were roaming around out in the yard. There were probably 20 people there. We were all out on the back lawn. I remember the marble-y, gray kitten came over to me. I held him, he laid on his back on my lap, begging for his cappuccino colored cottony fluffy, polkadotted belly to be tickled. He was a total shmooze. I found it interesting that he had the entire world to roam at his very paws, but he wanted to hang out on me. He laid on my lap with his paws in the air (reminding me of a baby kangaroo) for about 30-45 minutes...I began to love that kitten, who was really approaching cat-dom soon...I went home that night and couldn't get him out of my mind. I grew up with birds as pets. Now, I was really, really wanting to be a cat owner, but not of just any cat, because to this day, I'm not a "cat lover." I kept mentioning it to Kris. Asking him if he saw how cuddly and nice that cat was? (He had been up at the reservoir with the others while I was hanging out with the cat whose name was Poppy.) I kept thinking about that cat. Who the heck am I? A cat?!! Kris reminded me of the furry pet's pact.
Felice who was living downstairs was very pro-getting-me him. Of course I remembered living with Felice and Val and generally hating living with their two cats...I do remember once though, Val's cat Noah let me use him as a pillow one day when I was crying. He didn't mind my tears. I can't even remember what I was crying about, just that Noah let me lay my weary head on his belly as he rested.
For two days, I thought about the gray kitten.
I really was sure I wanted him, and I knew the Moore's needed to give away most of the kittens. I felt somehow I would be robbing them by taking the BEST one they had. Maybe that was my opinion though. :) I tried to let the idea die. On my way to work, I believe on the 3rd day, I walked down the apt. stairs to the door and found a litter box and kitten food waiting for me. A piece of cardboard ripped into a heart shape that said something like "I love you. PS. He better not be stinky!" I couldn't believe my eyes...Kris was letting me get the cat? Despite our pact? But then, I thought maybe Felice was pretending to be Kris and bought the stuff to persuade Kris to let me have it. I was very confused...But then I realized Felice would not have written "I love you." first. :P In disbelief, I asked Kris if it was true. He said "yes, but he better not be stinky." I remember picking up "Poppy" (who I would name "Joey" for his baby kangaroo-like-ness) at the Moore's. I remember Dee reassuring me that he was a good cat and that he was a "talker."
I'll never forget that first day I put down a dish of kitten food, opened the crinkly bag, the new smell of kitten food and pet that content little guy's back while he ate. I had a new little pet to nurture. I felt really, really happy about it.
That winter we had some friends over. As they were coming or going they left the door open while putting their shoes on and saying their goodbyes. They didn't know that the cat was not allowed outside. Later that night we realized we hadn't seen him. He wasn't sleeping on our feet at the end of the bed. We looked all over. He was gone. The night was one of the coldest most bitter nights of the year, and he didn't have a thick coat for outdoors like an outdoor cat would have. I thought for sure he would die in the cold. He was gone for 2 nights. I cried both nights. Kris, having become a big fan of this cat, was telling his friend at work that our cat was gone. He made his friend realize that he wasn't JUST any old cat, this cat was not replaceable. He was different. He was a little friend. :) (my words there, not his) His friend was so moved by this, he drove all the way out to G'ville to help Kris search the woods in the cold. They did not find him. On the third night around 11 pm we had a frantic knock and entry of the door by friends from the apts downstairs. They found him! He was on the lower apt deck, "talking" to the cat in the window. I was SOOOO ecstatic they brought him up to us. He was happy to see them when they found him and obviously more happy to be home. That night I looked at him and thought "He's a CAT!!" I've been crying about a cat? In my head it was like I lost my baby...He slept across my neck that night like a scarf and though I couldn't breathe, I didn't care. He was home!
For the next few years, Joey's name changed with his personality. I called him everything from Snuggleman to Furguson to Fur to Mr. Furrypants...(that one might be made up, might not). His name "Fur" has been the most recent name and the one that held fast for the longest time. We loved this cat and he loved us. He was our baby. We loved watching him sleep in a circle, holding his paw over his nose to hide his eyes or keep his nose warm. We loved how he laid on his back like he did on that Labor day. We loved how he would greet us when we came home from work, standing on the table or couch and putting his feet up on our shoulders as if to hug us. We loved how he nuzzled his canned food when he wanted to eat. He was a good, loyal sweet cat.
When I got pregnant, the whole "don't touch the cat litter" in my germ conscious now pregnancy hormone protective mind became a "don't touch the cat"...If I pet him too much sometimes he'd get feisty and scratch me,so now I was worried about cat scratch disease during pregnancy....Unfortunately for a while, my "baby"- my cat -became a germ to me. He had to become Kris's cat for a while. And before Cailen could grow up enough for me to get back in the swing of things and I could become part of his world again, I was pregnant with Riley! Poor cat was still a germ to me. Of course once the babies came home, you try your hardest to let him know they are coming and to try to deal with the new baby. But I know that I became more protective of my girls than of him. Which is natural, but not fair to him. I regret that.
The baby's crib was not being used while we were down the hall with the bassinette, so he found himself a place to sleep all the time. He wanted to be the baby and sleep in the crib. But the times that I did go in that room, I noticed his fur would shed and cat litter that had stuck on his toes would accumulate in the crib....Now, he was officially locked out of the bedrooms...I couldn't deal with cat litter in my kid's beds!
As the girls grew they became his friend.
I would let him sit on me, by me, with me and I'd pet him, but I know, it wasn't the same as before the girls were here. The girls had a lot of fun petting him and mildly chasing him through the room.
They loved to feed him and pet him while he ate. He loved Cailen once she started to help feed him. He would sometimes come begging to her as if she had control of the food supply.
He was generally pretty good with the girls. But if they taunted him when I wasn't able to moderate, he would give them a small scratch, but they survived with some cleaning and bacitracin.
Cailen, once she could attempt to say "kitty" would say "Keegy", so I let his name, for the most part morph into Keegy. When Riley started trying to say kitty it sounded to me like "Sheejie" but Cailen would always correct her sternly "It's KEEGY! NOT Shoe-Jee!" This I found ironic because it was really neither as he was a kitty not a keegy. But hey, I always rolled with it. :P
At some point Fur, Keegy, Shoe-Jee stopped eating. Being that we are in a bad economy and our budget had already been growing tight, we didn't have money to take him to the vet. We thought if it was just a little sickness, hopefully it would pass. I thought if petting him more would work, maybe I could love him back to health, wondering if it was my fault that he was sick. But, if he was getting old and not going to make it anyway, we thought he would pass. Unfortunately in either case, reality is always tougher than you think it will be. Fur continued to lose weight becoming a furry skeleton. His breathing was heavy at times. But eventually he was throwing up watery fluid that smelled really bad (all over the couch a couple of times). He was using other bedding upstairs for litter even though he would still go up to the litter box area. The first time we got home to his vomit on the couch was my b'day. I cried, knowing we had to do something for him. I couldn't even function with the realization, I just asked Kris to help me gets the kids ready for bed and I cried myself to sleep.
The next day, he threw up again, I cried. I didn't know how long this could/should/would go on. I knew he was suffering and I couldn't risk my kids getting sick from sitting in a puddle of unknown watery cat puke. I spent that night petting him and soaking in the moment. Looking in his pathetic little eyes wishing I could do more to help him. I had already washed the couch cushion covers and now needed to again. Despite the finances, Kris and I decided we needed to take him to the vet, for better or for worse. We borrowed a cat carrier and the next day we said our goodbyes, just in case there was nothing they could do to help him.
That morning I found him in the upstairs bathroom, laying in front of the toilet, like a sick human might. Since I didn't find him downstairs I actually had wondered for a moment that the vet would be unnecessary. When in the bathroom I squatted down and pet him for a few minutes, having a heart to heart conversation with him. I told him that he was always a good cat, that I was sorry I wasn't as nice to him when the babies came around, etc. Once Kris woke up, we made the decision that he would take him to the vet by himself. We had to say goodbye. Cailen knew I'd been upset for a few days but I hadn't been able to figure out how to tell her why. At this point I pet my kitty on his soft little head, looked him in the eyes and told him he was a good guy and that he had always been a good cat, I told him I loved him and we'd miss him if he didn't come home. Again, I told him how sorry I was for not being better to him when the girls came along. The tears flowed. I kissed his little head. I told Cailen to come and tell Keegy goodbye. She pet him and looked at us sadly, she waved to him as he walked away in the cat carrier and told him goodbye.
Before he left and after I told Cailen what she had already known that Keegy was very sick and wasn't feeling well. I told her that Daddy had to bring him to the vet so the vet could help him. I told her that Keegy might have to stay at the vet and that he may not be coming home again. I told her I was crying because I was going to miss him. She looked up at me with the most beautiful, sincere, innocent eyes and started talking about Gilbert (Caillou's gray cat) and when they got him from the pound.... and he was in a tree.... and the birds flew away... I just smiled and nodded through tears. She was so sweet. I kissed her face.
For two hours I waited to hear from Kris. Finally he came home. Alone. It was a very emotional home coming. We hugged. We grieved. It was very hard for him to hear that Keegy's lungs were filled with fluid, due to Feline Leukemia and that there was nothing they could do to save him. Kris had to make that choice to say that putting him down was best for him. Kris had to have his own conversation with Fur and tell him goodbye. It was a very hard time for both of us. After 8 1/2 years of having a loyal furry friend waiting for us when we got home. We have an empty house when we get home. There is no one wailing at the strays outside. There will be noone to nuzzle fur all over the back of Kris's shoes. There will be no one to smell the shoes of our guests or lay on their coats. There's no one to blame for creepy noises in the night. There is no one begging for food while we are trying to sleep. There is no one warming a spot on the couch for us.
Financially over time it will help not to have to buy the food and the litter, but the reality is, regardless of money, we did lose a part of our family. He was a great cat. He was a cat that was once so husky that one friend said "That's not a cat. He could EAT a cat!" He was always willing to sit on your lap if you let him. Unless you wanted to hold him, like Steve Wolford, and he would completely SHUN you! :) His mini xmas stocking is still packed away, but the snowman frame ornament holding a picture of him laying on his back (like when he was named Joey) staring at the camera still hangs on our tree.
Cailen hasn't asked where he is. She did mention him last night though, when looking at a picture book cat she told Riley "That's a kitty, like our kitty." In some way, I know, she hasn't forgotten about him, nor will we. His memory will always fondly remain in our hearts. And every time there is a curtain out of place I will be sure to think of him.
