WereBear posted they had to say goodbye to Reverend Jim just before the holiday and I kept meaning to ask her if she’d like to do a guest post on all he meant to them. Luckily, she read my mind and asked me to share this. He was a beautiful boy, Werebear.
———–
Our cat Reverend Jim was thirteen when we shared that last vet appointment, a few weeks ago. It was sad, but it was also my privilege. He was an extraordinary cat.
Reverend Jim’s rescue involved me convincing the police department that it was time to take him out of that “material witness” category. He’d had three weeks of vet care, which saved his life, but he still wasn’t thriving. At only 12 weeks old, he needed a home, but he was so scrawny no one would see him as the kitten he was.
Mr WereBear had asked me to, “Get someone mellow. You know, like Reverend Jim on Taxi.” He probably didn’t expect me to bring home “the most pathetic kitten in the place,” as a friend once said of my choices. But soon, he realized we couldn’t call him anything else. His Joy Face at cuddles and a full bowl was so evident, and so much like Christopher Lloyd’s, that this name turned out to be inevitable.
It took some time for him to catch up on his brain development being stunted by neglect, but he made it all the way back. I will always think of him during the holiday season, when his abundant wise-ass tendencies got highlighted. We would bring out the little, kitten-proofed, tree we got that year. It had all the lights and ornaments wired on, so when it fell on the carpet, we could just put it back on the table again.
But when questioned about these incidents, RJ would protest his innocence with his face. He would demonstrate that he wasn’t playing with the tree. He was playing with the wire from the tree. See?
He was an excellent example of cats being lawyers.
RJ’s legacy lives on through his mentoring of five kittens through the years. He was a world class Kitten Wrangler. He was taught by James Bond, who was trained by Beelzebub, who was mentored by Myron. That’s decades of unbroken tradition which stretches into the past, and the future.
When we lose them, always too soon, it hurts to think about the future. Without them.
Our good friend Amir Khalid recently lost his sweet cat, Bianca. In that thread, germy shared this:
WereBear wrote something once that brought tears to my eyes. She wrote about us giving our pets a knowledge of love.
So Bianca knew love, and that’s something.
Thank you. I believe love is what we are here for. Those of us who love a pet see that love returned, every day. Having someone who shares our lives acts as a multiplying force on our emotion. It blooms and fades and flowers again. As emotions should.
Our pets tell us that it doesn’t matter who that someone might be. They blast through walls of bigotry with their sheer joy in our presence. They regard us as a fellow being, who is their friend.
This makes right-wing quibbles about skin color, hair texture, physical abilities, language differences, and who we love and in what ways… meaningless.
Our heart knows that.
My readers have told me they find reassurance in, After a loss, how long before we get a new cat? Because they feel guilty that their period of mourning is not long enough. That wanting another pet, “too soon,” diminishes both their love, and their loss.
In this post, I explain that pets are different. We can’t use the lenses of “human loss” with them. Because the time frames do not match. The whole of their life fits into fractions of ours.
I believe pets fit into the “dear friends” category. That’s not like partner or child or parent, which are more restricted, and not as easily found again.
Pet loss is similar to friend loss. We usually have a number of friends, and we are always willing to entertain another. But this is also how pet loss hurts us so deeply. It’s a special category we can’t get from our fellow humans.
Pets are woven into our lives. Yet, with pet loss, our life goes on in ways indistinguishable from the outside. For most of us, our society does not acknowledge this special niche our animal friends give us. It’s only been quite recently that cultural acknowledgment of this special grief exists at all.
One of the reasons I “lost my religion” as a teen in the Deep South was how I was told “animals have no souls.”
I knew that wasn’t true.
I hope Amir finds love again. I know my home will, too. Right now, we are waiting for the universe to send us another “cat who needs us most.”
When we are pet rescuers, especially, the universe has that tendency.
—
Didn’t see it coming. My destiny turned out to be Internet Cat Guru.
Explore the blog at the Way of Cats.
Reverend Jim was memorialized in my first book, The Way of Cats. He’s on the cover and I get to tell his story. Check out my author page on Amazon. +Follow me to get notified of my book-in-progress, the multiple cat management system I call Cat Civilization.
Is it a gift-giving season for our cats? Explore custom blends in Mr WereBear’s creations, Herbal Cat Toys. The herb IS the toy!
———–
TaMara here again. Feel comfortable using this thread to tell us about the critters you’ve loved and lost. We have all been there.
cain
A lovely post, Werebear. I would that, we move on but we never forget. They are still part of our life DNA and we can’t speak about our lives without talking about their lives. I lost Yellow about 3 or 4 years ago and only now did I replace her. My life wasn’t wasn’t ready for pets due to just the turbulence of life. But now I’ve got two black panthers and learning once again to deal with two young cats.
RIP Reverend Jim and Bianca – gone but not forgotten. Ever.
TaMara (HFG)
I’m ducking out, but I know WereBear will be stopping by…
zhena gogolia
Beautiful post.
I’ve had eight cats between 1985 and 2017, and each of them was so distinctive and as multilayered as any human. Our last three were Masha, Sasha, and Louis, who appeared as kittens on our back deck in spring 2002. Masha and Sasha were gray tabbies who were hard to tell apart unless you looked right at their noses — Masha’s was brown, Sasha’s was pure pink. Louis was a tuxedo. Masha loved people, despite being semi-feral. She died in 2012. Sasha was my fierce best friend. Louis was scared of everything but so, so loving. Sasha and Louis died within a week of each other in January 2017, and we still haven’t gotten over it.
Yarrow
OMG, that Joy Face is too much. Condolences to all who have lost their beloved pets.
trollhattan
That’s one handsome boy. Very sorry he’s gone. :-(
JPK
Very nice piece. Sorry to hear about RJ — have enjoyed the stories of all your cats over the years. Thank you!
WaterGirl
And now I’m crying.
BigJimSlade
Beautiful post, beautiful cat
sab
OMG that cartoon at the end. I can’t wait to show my husband who is so much missing our rottmix Delilah.
Miss Bianca
Aww. I miss my Luna so much still, I can’t even talk or write about her without puddling up. Don’t get me wrong, I love my new crew fiercely – Roxy came into our lives just after Luna disappeared – but damn. Luna’s disappearance and then her death weeks later still just haunts me.
Almost two years on and I still haven’t been able to do anything with the urn of Luna’s ashes sitting over my desk. Maybe it’s just that I can’t bear to let what remains of her out of my sight.
Betty Cracker
That sounds about right to me. It sucks to lose a dear friend.
schrodingers_cat
@zhena gogolia:Aww they sound wonderful. What is the update on the kittens you were going to adopt?
zhena gogolia
@Miss Bianca:
I have several urns of cat ashes lining my mantel.
zhena gogolia
@schrodingers_cat:
Sadly, we just couldn’t do it when Covid hit. It’s an enduring source of guilt and regret for me, but I still don’t feel we can do it, if they’re even still available.
ETA: I tend not to comment on cats, for fear somebody will ask me about it. I feel like a very bad cat person.
Dorothy A. Winsor
Lovely tribute, WereBear
UncleEbeneezer
I told much of this story in August, but will do so again because it helps me heal and feels good etc.
My wife found Juniper at a pet-rescue day that Paramount was having on the lot, back in the Fall of 2010. Juni was a couple years old and had a litter of puppies. Everyone was taking the puppies but nobody seemed interested in the Mommy. Until my wife saw her and as she put it “She picked me.” Something about Juniper’s kind face just won her over. She was originally named “Ursula” but by the time we started dating (today is the anniversary of our first date!) she was already “Juniper.”
The first time I came over and met Juni, I didn’t know what to think. She didn’t bark or growl and didn’t have personality in the way that I was used to, in dogs. But I quickly fell in love with her easy-going nature. Aside from going for walks and eating dinner, Juniper never got too excited over anything. Zero interest in toys or playing fetch. Zero interest in other dogs (aside from smelling them). In my ten years with her, she only barked a handful of times (when a person or critter approached our fence). She never bit or even growled. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. I know a lot of dog owners say that (right before their dog bites/nips you) but really was true with Juniper.
Juni loved nothing more than laying outside on her dog bed, especially when we would take her camping to the Eastern Sierra. But in the Summer of 2019 a trip to high altitude had a terrible effect on her and we had to rush back to LA and the doggy ER. That’s when her decline (she had several health issues) really accelerated and in late-August of this year she lost almost all mobility and we had to put her down :(
We miss her every day, especially today. She had a bunch of wonderful quirks like snorting like a pig and running in a weird zig-zag pattern on the tennis courts (always stopping to pee on the net post) and lifting her front up off the ground in excitement for her evening pumpkin snack (good for her later-years tummy issues) and rubbing her head back and forth on your leg when you are trying to get her meal together just to remind you.
She was truly one of a kind and we will always miss and love her. You can see Juniper on the BJ Pet Calendar version A month of March.
With regards to getting a new pet after a loss, I will say that my Sister’s practice of almost immediately replacing her lost dog with one of the exact same breed (always a basset hound) seems a bit weird to me. Personally, I like to take more time to grieve and getting the same breed over and over (she’s on like her 5th basset) is a strange choice given how many other cool breeds are out there. But to each their own…
Amir Khalid
From our early days together, tongue baths were Bianca’s principal way of showing affection. She gave me one every night as part of her goodnight ritual. She loved me without conditions or expectations. That’s how they love us. That’s how they teach us love.
cain
My first cat was named KitKat (after the candybar, the next one was called Snickers) He wasn’t just a friend though, he was my best friend and never had such a wonderful companion – a tuxedo cat, he was very smart with dog like properties. So many wonderful things about him. Snickers was a tragedy, a feline who pissed inappropriately on the carpet nearly every day until we got her on anti-anxiety meds. I used to get on Balloon-Juice and talk about it – Werebear used to help me out. It’s too bad we didn’t have CBD oil back then! Both my cats died by some asshole coyote. They were indoor and outdoor. KitKat died loving the outdoors. It was Snickers that I felt bad about because she wasn’t supposed to go out that particular night and snuck out.
Yellow came to us as a stray and adopted us, she died of cancer. But she was a pretty cat with a really awful meow. They are all on previous years balloon-juice calendars :)
sab
@UncleEbeneezer: Do you know her background?
The Moar You Know
Most of these are cats. In memoriam (and rough chronological order):
Cathy Cat
Cinnamon
Spotty
Kenya (my dad’s dog)
Bandit
Piglet
Bob
Shadow
Britt (my non-stop talking cat, my love, and the last cat I will ever have)
Hannah (the dog that utterly changed my life)
This covers my entire pet owning life, from age 2 until now.
Can’t have cats anymore as my wife is seriously, dangerously allergic. That has been hard to deal with. It’s been made easier because our (my) current dog is about 90% cat. I say he’s my dog because he considers himself such. I consider him such too.
I hope they have pet stores in Heaven because there’s going to be a lot of critters I’m responsible for taking take of. Happy to do it, I might add.
People who believe this – and there are many – are merely reflecting that they consider themselves 100% not responsible for their actions towards all the other ensouled beings in this world. I’m serious. Everything has a soul. Animals. Plants. Rocks. All of it.
I don’t want to get into the details of all my animals listed in memoriam. I could write books for each one. And I’m a bit too fragile for that at the moment. It’s been a very bad year.
LivingInExile
Someone dropped a sick starving kitten off at our house a few weeks ago. The vet thought she was 5 or 6 months old and she only weighed 3 pounds. She is people friendly so she is not a feral stray. She had the worst case of projectile diarrhea I have ever seen. She has had five days of antiibiotic, five days of panacur, a diet of boiled chicken and white rice, and some hills high priced food. Her appetite came back and she’s very active, but still very skinny. Stools very soft but improving. She’s cat number 5. Werebear, any ideas to improve her digestion, like the gelatin you were talking about last night?
UncleEbeneezer
@sab: No. We suspect some German shepherd mixed maybe with Chau. She had a super-thick coat like a husky but more brown/black coloring. Floppy ears. Thick/bushy curved tail.
You can see her on March, here:
https://balloon-juice.com/2020/12/01/2021-balloon-juice-pet-calendar-calendar-a/
sab
@LivingInExile: Good luck. When we took in Starscream I wanted to call him Stilts because he looked like a cat stick figure. 10 years later he is extremely pudgy.
debbie
Lovely.
Matt McIrvin
@cain:
I had one of those–Nestor, a theoretically wonderful cat in every way except for this ONE DEALBREAKER. But in his case, it was because he had megacolon and was chronically constipated–he’d had it before we adopted him, and we didn’t realize it at the time–and likely had negative associations with the litter box. We put up with it for astonishingly long; eventually, it reached a crisis point where his gut no longer worked at all and he simply couldn’t keep living.
I felt so much guilt about it–both that I was neglecting him somehow, AND that I’d been putting up with it for too long. It was a major drag on our quality of life, but we had this possibly misguided sense of obligation.
Yutsano
I can’t forget losing our Newfoundland Sasha. Sasha literally raised me from birth. She was very much true to her breed in that she was slavishly devoted to watching her boys. Every night she would walk through the house, count heads, then go to my parents’s bedroom and snore. And oh did she have a kissing tongue! Cancer took her away when I was 10. Have had several dogs since then, but I will never forget my first giant ball of black floof.
For TaMara: get the love for big woofers now?
sab
@UncleEbeneezer: She looks a lot like our rottmix (other half shepherd?) Our rottmix had the opposite personality. Everything in her life was extremely exciting. She never had a dull moment, and made sure no one else did either.
planetjanet
@WaterGirl:
Me too. That last drawing sent me over the edge. It has been many years since I had a pet. After losing two cats and a dog over a three year span, I just could not face another loss. Their pictures are around me and I have a lovely iron silhouette of one in the garden. They never completely leave us.
UncleEbeneezer
@sab: Yeah I could see Rott as a definite possibility in the mix. Though as I mentioned she had like ZERO of the protective personality that most Rotts have, in my experience.
narya
Zippy belonged to my friend. Then the Badgers got into the Rose Bowl and his mom (the usual caretaker) was heading to FL, so she came to stay here, in January 2011. She was already a dozen years old, most likely, and weighed all of 6 pounds. She was convinced most people were going to eat her, though she got braver as she got older here. She loved to stretch out in my lap and watch tv with me, especially hockey. Her best trick: we had an old couch cushion on the floor, and she sort of used it as a scratching post, but she would also claw her way around it, at great speed (I have hardwood floors)–we referred to it as “swimming.” It was awesome. She had some episodes the last year of her life–I don’t know what, exactly–but she kept springing back . . . until she didn’t. I had some puppy pee pads around (I had put them around the litter box when she was having trouble w/ her aim), so the last two days I set her up on the couch cushion w/ pads under her, making it easy to clean her up. Before that, I had put my bed on the floor so she could get in w/o climbing anything (even ramps were too much for her the last couple of months). If I tried to sleep on my side, she would pat at my head until I rolled onto my back, so she could sleep on my shoulder. I knew that she was getting near the end, so I accommodated her as much as I could, with anything she wanted. She died four years ago, and I still miss her terribly. I keep thinking of getting new cats–I’d get two–from the local shelter, but it just hasn’t happened yet. I can’t quite articulate why not.
Miss Bianca
@planetjanet: I think I’ve determined, kind of by accident, that I’m one of those “get another critter right away” people. Within days of my big old girl Stella dying, puppy Watson showed up on our neighbor’s doorstep and needed a landing place, so I took him in on a “temporary” basis, and, well…
Same with Roxy. She was showing up at another neighbor’s because she was lonely and bored and wanted to hang with other dogs. Finally dragged her up to my place while we were searching for her person. Who, it turned out, was leaving the county and couldn’t take her with (long story). This was right as Luna disappeared.
Before I had Stella, I had been dogless for a couple years (I had lost my heart dog, Sovay, at age 14), and I really think that those were some of the worst years of my life. Grief over Sovay really made me kind of crazy for that couple of years. It seems that I *need* dogs in my life.
Just lucky that some equally needy puppers found me, too.
eddie blake
sorry for your loss, WereBear. what a magnificent beast.
soon it will be the first anniversary of linden’s death. that pretty much wrecked me, she was such a special girl. on a pet thread in late febuary, (i think) WereBear convinced me to talk to mz blake about going to the SCAR and looking at kittens.
which we did. and now Catie Cat is sleeping, snoring next to me. belly up and a smile on her face as she dreams. thanks, Bear. i give hugs (but not hugs) hope that new cat rolls into your life sooner rather than later. reverend jim probably woulda liked that.
J R in WV
Not sure about rocks, but plants and critters for sure have souls as much as people do !!! And I love rocks of all kinds, have rocks from all over the world, large and small. Some installed in building things, some loose in the front yard.
Our first cat was Jezebel — a black panther with a sly sense of humor. We got her from a shipmate while in the yard at Pascagoula MS. Pretty much the only delightful thing we brought home from Pascagoula! She would run into the kitchen, jump onto the counter, then on top of the fridge when she saw than someone was heading into the kitchen to make coffee early in the AM. From there, she would pounce upon the head of the first passerby, no claws, but boxed on top with both front feet. Then she would dive behind the fridge to avoid being counter-attacked. Every morning.
Then we got a little kitten from neighbors of the folks, a gray tabby, and Jezebel loved the kitten, as a target of that wicked sense of humor. Tim would hide under a bookcase, and Jezebel would roll a rubber ball back and forth until the kitten could no longer resist, would pounce the ball, and Jezebel would pounce him.
There are too many cats for me to remember every one of them. Big Tomcats with great skills as hunters, little kittens who snuggled. One queen Maine Coon who gave birth mostly on wife’s pillow. She didn’t know what was happening, so one kitten was born on the kitchen floor, was cold and still until I filled a hot water bottle and wrapped him up with a towel and the warm bottle, and rubbed his tummy firmly. Fired him right up, put him on mom once she was done birthing. We went from 4 cats to 9 cats overnight.
Maybe 30ish cats all told, always at least 2 or 3 for 50 years now.
Crying is good for the soul some days. People who don’t love other animals are defective in some way. Wife’s mom hated cats, would barely put up with an affectionate dog. And of course cats knew she didn’t like them, and would stare at her continuously. Which upset her. She didn’t visit often on that account, which was OK by me. She (MIL) had a fantasy about moving in with us in her old age, but never thought about all the cats — I guess she assumed we would somehow get rid of them to please her, hahaha. Never happen.
We’re down to two cats now, the same age, getting up there. Both affectionate, esp when they decide they should be served brunch. We’re old enough we won’t get a kitten, I don’t think I will outlast a young healthy cat. But there are older cats that need a good home.
Thanks for this post and thread. The drawing of the two critters on the pier is wonderful. Crying is good for your spirit.
pika
I am so sorry, Werebear. I’ve been through a version of this (because though there are commonalities, no loss is ever the same) too many times. I was honored when Cole memorialized now-departed Onion and (later passed) Tater . Bumper, who’s at the bottom as the new dog, is now 11. Hard to believe. My heart is with you.
Matt McIrvin
…anyway, we’ve had a lot of cats. When I was first dating Sam she had a dark gray and white tuxedo cat named Savant who she’d raised from a kitten. Savant was sweet, but she was clearly Sam’s cat more than mine.
When we moved in together, we adopted an orange boy named Elmer who, unbeknownst to us, already had advanced kidney disease and died after just a month with us. That was a shock.
The shelter sympathized and waived adoption fees for our next cat, and we went with a peculiar-looking little gray tortie who we named Niobe, with short little legs and eyebrow tufts like a scottie dog. She’d supposedly been rescued from a crack house. Niobe was special, such a wonderful friend. A comical, irascible drama queen with a loud purr, and she was the first cat who I felt was really mine. She was smart–had an uncanny ability to pick up on subliminal cues that I might be coming at her with the claw trimmers and would be off like a shot. Strong, too. The vet had to have two people hold her down to do anything. Early on, she was a klutz and had a habit of falling off of things she jumped onto, but she got more and more proficient over time.
Next was Nestor, the problematic fellow mentioned above, who we adopted after Savant died. But when we got a third cat, a gorgeous brown tabby kitten with preternatural jumping abilities named Radka, Nestor instantly adopted Radka as his own child and doted on that kitten. They’d always be cuddling together. I appreciated that.
Nestor and Niobe passed within ten days of each other–that was rough. Especially since both of them had been ailing senior cats with elaborate medical care routines that became such an intensive daily ritual, and suddenly all of that was just gone, which was a strange, empty feeling. And, of course, there were all the complicated guilt/relief feelings associated with losing a cat who pissed on the carpet and was such a pain to deal with.
Radka: an almost perfect cat, a natural acrobat, cheerful and energetic. A little bitey. I think she was actually fine with being an only cat once Nestor and Niobe were gone; never really warmed to our current cat Jess when we got her. They had the house divided up, Radka owning the upstairs and Jess the downstairs. When Radka passed away and we got kitten Luna, it hasn’t been quite like that; Luna needed to play and wouldn’t let Jess push her away forever.
Salty Sam
Awww, you too? We had a rottie mix, Minnie, and a sweeter, dumber dog never walked the earth. Miss her a lot.
cain
Deep thought of the day – why can’t a cat’s litterbox smell like laundry? I mean won’t that be win for all of us both cats and owners?
Anotherlurker
Thank you Werebear, you have touched on everything that I have experienced with the lives and deaths of my 3 dogs.
Bella, Ginger and Buddy added so much love in my life and they all helped me thru some very tough times.
For me, life without a dog is life diminished.
In less than 2 weeks time, Addie joins my family. She has been horribly abused and I know that I will love her and help her into a much better life. She will, just by her presence and love, help me into a much better life.
wormtown
@J R in WV: Hi. Pet Calendar A has 2 Spikes in March (or April, maybe??? :))- I just checked the list and I think one is yours. The other one is mine. Both tabbies. Mine is pretty big – looks like yours is too. I did a double take when I checked the pictures – because I have a picture of my spike sitting on a fence rail that looks pretty similar to the pic you submitted; but I was pretty sure I submitted a different one. My Spike is a big old boy I got from a nearby shelter. I think he is about 7. Very good boi.
Mike in NC
I grew up in a home where my parents had no interest in any critters because they thought they ruined the furniture. They do, but so do small children. Met my wife in 1990 and we’ve always surrounded ourselves with cats. They make us better people.
Eunicecycle
Our family seems to attract cats; all of them except one has been a stray. All three of our kids have adopted cats when they were on their own. My son’s cat was found in an empty apartment by the building manager after a tenant moved out; she had probably been alone in that apartment for several days, no food or water. I don’t understand people! It reminds me of the dog John found in his house. How do people do that??? Sadie lived with us and our two cats Oreo and Simba for a while when our son was living somewhere that didn’t allow cats. Oreo and Simba are gone but Sadie is living the life in Texas with her rescue brother Ernie the dachshund.
greenergood
Oh regrets Reverend Jim – you were a beautiful kitteh. My first kitteh was Kimo, named for Kimosabe – he and a puppy (named Tonto) were adopted on my little closed street in the West of Scotland in the late 1990s. When Kimo and Tonto’s humans moved, they took the dog but left the cat = Kimo went through three more owners of the house until he came to us. The last owners had family in London and we looked after Kimo, when they went to down south for Christmas, etc., but when they wanted to move him with them to London, I just said no, he’d be catburger in minutes, having never had to deal with any street traffic. So after a few months of up and down, he deigned to become our Feline Overlord and lived for another 10 years – going over the Rainbow Bridge in 2004 after 18 years in this life. We’ve had another Feline Overlord (14-pound Tabby male) since then, who passed in 2017, and we are now ruled by a relaitvely tiny black Feline Queen (6-pound), a rescue who demanded sanctuary in 2018 after visiting her in her rescue home. She was timid for a year, but now takes no prisoners – which is fine. Every feline Overseer has their traits and habits – but they are usually benevolent, as long as you do what they want. Your stories and advice over the years, Werebear, have been incredibly useful. I’ve looked to your posts many a time to try and figure out what to do my Felids. I’m so sad yuo’ve lost your RevJ, but know you will keep going … Big thanks …
Mike in Oly
This hits hard today. I’ve had tears running while reading all these comments. This week has been one year since we lost our dear sweet Oliver. We had only had him for a year and half, but losing him hit so hard. My husband and I had both bonded with him strongly. He was such a character. A solid black bombay house panther with a sprig of white hairs on his chest. We’d adopted him as an adult rescue. His previous owner had passed away and because he was really overweight no one was wanting to adopt him. He was a snuggle bug and loved to be on a lap – almost as much as he loved treats. He had a raspy meow and used to sit on my desk and ‘scream’ at me to get treats out for him. A few months before passed he fell off my desk when he rolled over and wasn’t paying attention to the edge. We think he hurt his back. One night I found him on the floor upstairs unable to stand. Emergency vet said he had ruptured a disk in his back and there was no hope it could be dealt with given his weight issues. We had to say good bye and it broke our hearts.
He was cat #8 that we’ve had over 20 years and each one was special. Some we had for a long time, some for a short time. All were loved so much. We always say we are going to take a break when one passes but within a few weeks we are itching to get another cat. I simply can’t stand the thought of a kitty sitting in a shelter waiting for a home when I have a space in mine for them. We now have Pearl, who’s been with us since 2016 when we adopted her and her brother Dandy, both 8-9 years old at the time. We lost Dandy in 2018 to cancer. And now Marley has become a part of our family. He was also overlooked because of his weight issues, but is slimming down nicely now that he has a home where he can run and play. Our lease limits us to two cats, which is arguably a good thing because I’d have four (or more!) if I could.
Some days the grief from losing them is unbearable, but the idea of not having them in my life is more distressing. After we had lost our oldest living cat – Chewie Lou, who passed at age 19 – we tried to take a break, but coming home to an empty house every day was so depressing I only made it three weeks before I couldn’t take any more and we went and found Pearl and Dandy. Our local shelter is amazing, and because we are willing to take older cats with issues they have waved the adoption fee for us several times now. They get it back in donations.
Each one is so different and so special. We never have them long enough.
J R in WV
@wormtown:
Our Spike is small 10 lbs or so, but a fierce oudoors hunter, even tho she’s getting up in years. Mostly rodents, 99% of the time, from tiny moles and voles to comparatively giant chipmunks. I have to check her mouth when I let her in.
Named Spike because as a kitten she would settle down on my right shoulder, and suddenly be so sharp into my flesh, even as a tiny kitten. She didn’t purr for about the first year, and then one day, sitting on my shoulder, I pressed my ear against her and heard a tiny inaudible grrr deep inside her.
Now she purrs at the first skritches, and frequently sneaks onto me in the wee hours to sleep on my hip. Her much larger not sister Punkin sleeps on my pillow come about dawn. Punk is a mostly black tortie, also very affectionate.
We have two young dogs, brother and sister, 45-50 pounds, affectionate, headstrong. 1/4 Pyrenees, 1/4 lab mix, 1/2 country Aussie cattle dog, which means she looks like and acts like a cattle dog. They like to sleep on our bed in the afternoon, BooBoo will slither into bed between us very late at night.
They are also scavengers in the woods, so sometimes you would rather they NOT get on the bed…
We can’t control their diet this time of year, as the woods are full of bambi-bits during hunting season. Older dog, Alice, white lab mix has gained 20+ pounds she really doesn’t need, and they aren’t interested in their kibble at all.
NeenerNeener
This is the first time since 1986 that I haven’t had at least one dog.
I got Spud in ’86 and his buddy “Shelby With Four-On-The-Floor” in ’87. I lost Shelby when I moved in ’93….the cable guy let the dogs out of the yard and she walked in front of a car. I don’t think I’ll ever have cairn terriers again; they’re sweet but they’re always looking for a party. I got a new puppy to keep Spud company a few months later, a blue-eyed mini-Aussie puppy named after my grandmother’s favorite hair dye, Clairol Silk-and-Silver. Claire and Spud had some good times together for the next 11 years and died within months of each other, Spud of old age at 18 1/2 and Claire of a hereditary heart condition. I made it a week before I was looking at Aussie litters on the internet. Fudge and Emily joined me a week later. I lost Fudge back in 2019; he had a stroke and the concierge vet came to the house to tend to him. I lost Emily back in June of this year pretty much the same way. As much as I would like another dog (or two), I need to repair the damage the last two did to this house (holes in the dry wall, chewed molding, etc) and get ready to sell it in the next two years. It seems weird to be without at least one animal, though.
Alison Rose
I am so sorry for your loss, and OMG this post and your post about when to get a new cat brought me to tears because it is so on point for me right now. I sent my kitty Zoe over the rainbow bridge just about two months ago now, and I miss her terribly still. We were coming up on 13 years together when she passed, and in that time, we were together a LOT. A few years after I adopted her, I got ill and was on disability and we had to move in with my parents for about six years, and during that time, I was home almost all the time. Then the first job I got again, in September 2016, was fully work from home, so we were still together every day. I didn’t start going back to an office job until September 2018, and then of course, in March we went into quarantine and I haven’t left my apartment since. She was there for me through so much.
This part hit me: Empty Slots have their own pull, separate from the loss we feel when we lose a cat. This is why we can profoundly miss our gone cat, and still feel drawn to drive by the shelter or peek on Petfinder.
I started doing this a few weeks ago, and as you allude to, I have indeed felt massively guilty. I still have Zoe’s pic on my phone screen, and I literally stared at her little face, crying and telling her I wasn’t trying to replace her. But I’m so lonely, especially with this stupid fucking pandemic meaning I can’t see my parents, and my stress levels have been horrible from work lately. I inquired about a kitty last week (still haven’t heard back from the rescue org, getting a little frustrated there) and have been trying to help my own mind understand why it’s not disrespectful to Zoe’s memory to do so. Your posts are helping me truly accept that, so thank you. And again, I am so sorry for your loss, and everyone’s losses. It is never ever ever easy, even if you know it was the right thing to do for them, like it was for Zoe.
Insta post here if you wanna see my sweet baby girl
Tdjr
My first dog as an adult was Betsy, a sweet buff cocker spaniel who had been purchased from a pet store 2 years earlier by her former owner who didn’t want her past puppy age. The sweetest dog in the world. She didn’t bark or bite or shed. It took me 4 years after she passed to be ready to look again. I was actually careful not to fall in love with the first dog I saw at the shelter. Then I saw Jasper a cocker/Clumber spaniel mix. He was not thrilled at first. But he’s my bestest friend now 5 years later. He’s 12 now and a little slower but still barks, drools and sheds, bless his impish heart.
Eta for clarity.
Kristine
I never stop thinking about puppies past–King, Mickey, Princes 1 and 2–and how differently I would care for and feed them given all I’ve learned from Gaby. She will be 14 next month–it’s a guesstimate because she was a rescue, estimated age 1.5 years–and I am trying really hard not to think about how old she is in human years and the signs that she may be winding down. She’s on arthritis and GI meds now, but she still demands her daily walks, loves splashing in the lake and rolling in leaves or snow, and enjoys being outside as much as possible. I’m reminding myself to enjoy every day because I remember how quickly things went sideways with King and Mickey.
Sympathies for everyone here for your losses. It’s so hard. Mickey used to smudge his nose all over the backseat passenger window during car rides, and I didn’t clean off those smudges until about two years after he passed.
Best Peasant
Long time lurker here. Just prior to Thanksgiving we lost our sweet Bandit. It really hit us hard for a number of reasons – he belonged to my wife’s late sister and our last everyday link to her. He was also the last of our three old boys, who one by one, left us over the past three years. For the first time since 2002, we have no dogs in the house and it’s almost unbearable.
late sister
WereBear
@LivingInExile: Werebear, any ideas to improve her digestion, like the gelatin you were talking about last night?
I’ve got some posts that might help:
Hyper-Nutrition can’t hurt and will help
Helping our cat’s digestion
Rebooting Reverend Jim
Eunicecycle
This is such a happy/sad thread. I love reading everyone’s stories about their beloved pets, but then I get choked up reading about the pets’ passing. I think this is part of what makes this place special.
bemused senior
I adopted my special dog Toro, a chihuahua beagle mix, from Muttville, a S F rescue for senior dogs. He lived for 4 years before dying of congestive heart failure. In that time he adapted to walking on a leash, and I learned to deal with his reactivity to other dogs. He learned to be calm riding shotgun in the car, and accompanied me on a month long cross-country car trip with many camping stops. He was still with me when my grand twins were born and firmly believed they were puppies. My daughter lives with us and she would come upstairs to nurse the twins in the morning. Toro would lick each twin’s head and then lie quietly beside the three of them on the couch sleepily watching over them. He died when they were 4 months old. I was so devastated by that that I constantly was tricked by motions beside me into believing it was Toro for an instant. Friends talked me into getting another dog, but I never really fell in love with him in the same way. He recently died too, also a senior rescue. I have been tempted to get another dog but as a stage 4 cancer patient, it makes no sense. Maybe I will see Toro again soon. I wish I believed in that.
eclare
@Alison Rose: What a cutie! So sorry for your loss.
WereBear
I’m so pleased. I love to help cats, and their people.
UncleEbeneezer
@Alison Rose: Sorry for your loss.
It really is amazing how big a part of our lives they become. Our dog Juniper was here just before I met my wife and after I got laid off in 2012 and became a combination of part-time musician, part-time house-husband and later part-time organizer/activist, (staying home while my wife commuted to work) I ended spending a ton of time with her. Now that she’s gone it’s weird because even though she never barked, she was such a constant presence in our living space (not to mention in our relationship). And unlike the cats we’ve lost (three in just the past few years) it’s an especially notable emptiness because so much of our schedule revolved around walking and feeding her. Every evening I feel like I have to manage dinner around the evening dog-walk, and it reminds me that that is no longer a concern.
greenergood
@Mike in Oly: I think it’s that once you’re had a feline in the house, the energy changes. Maybe dog people think this about dogs, too. But once our first felid departed, we left it a couple of months when I was back in NY looking after my mom, and once I got back to Scotland, it was like ‘Felid time’ – my husband was so bereft without a kitteh while I was away. We wondered about being ‘too soon’, ‘unfaithful’, but finally realised that once you have let a feline spirit in the house, then the spirit lingers and needs to be replaced when its bodily receptacle has passed on. It’s hard to explain, in that every cat is its own special being, but the feline spirit is prevailing – and once you’re had one, then a house without one isn’t right …
UncleEbeneezer
For those still grieving lost pets, one thing that helped lift our spirits was finding good homes for some of Juniper’s old stuff on a local Buy Nothing FB group. My wife JUST NOW showed a picture that a woman posted of her dog sitting cozily on Juni’s old dog bed, which made us both smile and felt like a great way to honor her memory.
Jay
Man, it’s dusty in here.
lil-bit has decided that the boy is being verclempt and needs a kitty pressed up against his right hip, and Jelly, ( Mellow) has decided that tight up against my left leg is the best spot to give comfort.
SaltWaterCleanse
A Small-Sized Mystery
Leave a door open long enough,
a cat will enter.
Leave food, it will stay.
Soon on cold nights,
you’ll be saying “excuse me”
if you want to get out of your chair.
But one thing you’ll never hear from a cat
is “excuse me.”
Nor Einstein’s famous theorem.
Nor “The quality of mercy is not strained.”
In the dictionary of Cat, mercy is missing.
In this world where much is missing,
a cat fills only a cat-sized hole.
Yet your whole body turns toward it
again and again because it is there.
JANE HIRSHFIELD
ThresherK
Condolences from the felines in our home to those in yours, WereBear. And the mixed whiskers are striking.
E.
My beloved and very attentive kitty is clearly failing fast at about 15 years. He was a stray who just showed up and has been a very constant companion ever since. I live alone and have never been so frightened about what I will do when he is gone. Especially now he is nearly my only companion. This is a small town and he follows me everywhere. They know him at the post office, City Hall, the grocery store. He waits for me on the sidewalk as a dog would. I will never find another like him.
Jay
@E.:
if you look, you will find another, unique in their own way, that will occupy as much space in your heart.
Aleta
The “historical domestication of animals by humans” …. (At least by now it’s viewed as coming about in a mutually beneficial way. Though still human-centric— ‘the natural nurturing impulse of humans inspired a few to care for a lost baby wolf or wild pig’ or something like that.)
But I prefer to think about animals domesticating and socializing early humans. Like, after my dog came here, he insisted on showing me how to relax into being part of a pack instead of quite so solitary. He has a cooperative spirit more pure than my siblings or some competitive humans I’ve worked or lived with. And I still remember how my first cat when I was five made me feel comforted, calmed by her purring, nurtured by her attentive washing. I still crave a nurturing cat and the healing effect of a steady purr.
Tokyokie
Before I married, I was known an easy mark for somebody with a cat and a sad story. Estranged wife threatening to donate your cat to a high school science class and your lease forbids you from having pets? That’s how I wound up with Kevin Shapiro, Cat Orphan. Co-worker bewailing her fate as she went from 3 to like 18 cats in the space of a week and who would take the runt of the litters, a calico with a tabby-striped head? That’s how I got the Incredible One-Headed Transplant. A black cat approaches me and rubs against my leg, purring, as soon as I get out of my car at a friend’s house in St. Louis, and I learn she’d been the neighbors’ but they left her behind when their house burned down a couple of weeks before? That’s how I got Marlene. I think when we moved from Tokyo to Texas with 5 kitties in tow that I learned to be a bit more judicious in taking in orphans.
But in the space of just over 2 years, all of our elderly cats — Keyser, the sweet little Balinese; Lyle and Tector, survivors from a feral colony that coyotes killed a few days later; and Volodymyr, who lived in our house from about his 3rd day on Earth until his last — all died. (They were all 16-19 years old.) Which left us with only Marvin, our wonderful, albeit chubby, 10-year old lilac-point Siamese.
The spousal unit and I agreed that Marvin is the best cat we’ve had, so after quite a bit of looking, we adopted Franco, a seal-point kitten. I’d forgotten how energetic kittens can be, and his rambunctiousness seems to annoy Marvin. But Marvin’s figured out he can outjump Franco and will get up on a kitchen cabinet or crawl under the bedspread to get away from the rascal. They’ll still tussle quite a bit, and although Marvin can physically dominate Franco, he never hurts the little guy, despite much hissing and growling. (Franco, for his part, is mostly mute while Marvin’s knocking him about.) Eventually, they both grow tired and wind up sleeping next to each other, so I think they’ll eventually wind up buddies. Still, I wish that Franco’s favorite toy wasn’t Marvin’s tail
Wolvesvalley
@LivingInExile: You might be interested in trying a bacteria-restoring powder called Proviable Forte. (The link says “for dogs” but it’s for both dogs and cats.) My vet recommended it when one of my cats had severe diarrhea towards the end of course of antibiotics. She said that lab tests at Cornell showed that the beneficial bacteria survived the trip through the stomach.
Good luck with your kitty — I hope she regains her health and has many happy years with you.
Kristine
@Tokyokie:
Oh, I needed this laugh today.
Aleta
@Wolvesvalley: That one has helped my dog a lot.
Aleta
@Kristine: I had a cat (Sharkey), wonderful in a hundred ways, whose favorite toy was a crisp wrapped tampon. It really was a perfect cat toy. A pleasure to toss into the air and catch in his front paws. When the outer wrapping came off, there would be an exciting little tail, etc. If guests were in the living room, he had a way of fishing out an old one he’d left under the couch and having a moment with it on center stage.
Mary G
I started writing a long story about my cats, but got distracted and the thread died. Will just say condolences to WereBear for the loss of Reverend Jim. I know how much he meant to you from reading your blog.
My beloved 21-year-old Sophie died in 2011 and as I was living alone I had a very hard time of it. I made it a week when my friend Susan told me that I needed another heartbeat in the house and we were going to the shelter. I couldn’t decide so I told the volunteer to give me two that got along and were unlikely to be adopted and that’s how I got the rascals I have now.
Mathguy
Another reason 2020 sucks for me and my wife is that we lost our lug of a whippet, Dylan (45 pounds-almost a greyhound), who was the sweetest guy in the world. Retired champion show dog, his specialty was stealth kisses (look away and you’re getting one). Hell on four legs for rabbits, which was not a great thing, but he was a whippet and that’s what they’re bred to do. Wasn’t eating well, had a ultrasound and discovered cancer throughout his intestines and spleen. Died in February shortly after his 11th birthday. Still hurts, but I’m so glad he was a part of our life. RIP, good boy.
Mr. Kite
Lost a 17 year old cat last week. My kids (16 and 20) don’t remember a world without her. The cat never liked me much though, supposedly because I once called her fat. She will be remembered.
Mike in Oly
@greenergood: That is exactly it. A house never feels empty with a cat around, but without one that void is a glaring presence itself.
Seanly
The first dog my wife & I had together was Ginnie. She was a foundling – on our way from PA to Nashville, we met her at a gas station in Natural Bridge, VA. I-81 wasn’t the best route from Harrisburg, but niether of us liked I-95 so we went that way. It was near Christmas 2001.
There was this very pretty dog sitting outside the door of the gas station. A guy came out the door and fed her a Dorito, and I said she was a pretty dog. Guy said, “Not my dog.” We asked the old-timer attendant about dog and he said she’d been around for a couple of weeks, hanging out at the gas station and stealing dog & cat food left outside by the neighbors. We bought a can of Alpo & got her to eat a little. We left the rest of the can with the guy and as we drove off, he was giving more to Ginnie.
On our visit, my wife & I kept talking about the dog – she went so far as to name her. We left the day after Xmas and drove back the same way. We were still debating about if to rescue the dog. My wife is terrible with numbers while I remembered the exact exit number. I could’ve been an ass, but we did pick up Ginnie. We gave her a couple of cheap dog treats from my in-laws and she laid down & exposed her belly to us. Then she readily jumped in the car. We didn’t have any supplies (not knowing if she’d still be at the stop) so we found a Walmart – wife ran in to get a few things.
We got a few miles down the road and Ginnie threw up the cheap dog treats. We’ll pulled over and tried cleaning up the mess. Ginnie hoped out & started heading down the shoulder. My wife shouted for her and she came back.
We got her home and some friends got us into see their vet. She was in good shape though very skinny, maybe only a year old. He thought she might be pregnant but we didn’t take an xray to confirm. She was some kind of mix, maybe German Shepard with some Spitz like an Akita?
We put her on a rich diet to put weight back on her. It turned out Ginnie was pregnant and gave birth to 7 puppies on January 20th. The first one was breeched so she had to have a C-section.
Our first evening with the puppies was helping the vet techs rub their bellies to get them to breathe.
Ginnie was a good mom to her pups (sometimes the moms won’t bond if they have a C-section). We also kept one of her pups, Duncan. All of her other pups went to families with children.
She was my sweet girl and bonded even more with me when I made it home after looking for her when she got away from a groomer. She was hunkered up against our backdoor.
Ginnie was often the Queen of All She Surveys and aloof around other dogs. Like Spitz-related dogs, she was all about our little family. She eventually started having liver issues as well as a persistent cyst at the base of her fluffy tail. We were playing medical whackamole and decided she was in too much pain. Her last day was in April of 2010 so we had her just over 8 years. I still miss her dearly.
Duncan was a great dog in his own right; a literal gentle giant (105 lbs in his prime). He was much taller than Ginnie and had a curved tail in contrast to her straight tall. Not to short our years with him, but long story short, he developed cancer and didn’t make it to his 12th year.
I’m crying thinking about the 2 of them, both still missed and still greatly loved. Since then we’ve only gone a few months without at least 1 dog.
Dr. Daniel Price
Beta Carotene–tiny orange tabby–was only eight years old when cancer claimed her.
Flex Impetigo–drey tabby–was my first cat. I brought him home as a tiny kitten but had to immediately go to the work site. When I came home he came bounding across the room to greet me, having known me for mere minutes. He has been gone for fifteen years and I miss him terribly.
We kept Orion–orange tabby–comfortable in an oxygen tent for his last day so that our oldest child, returning from travel, could say “goodbye”. He did not stop purring for a moment of his final week.
Murphy Junior–another orange tabby–was eighteen when he decided that it was his time to go., two weeks before the premature birth of our oldest child (now seventeen). Perhaps Murph knew of the coming crisis and got out of the way.
Esmerelda–our “ironically orange” black cat–has helped me to write this. It has been difficult.
WaterGirl
@SaltWaterCleanse: That’s beautiful.
Pauline
It’s been almost a year since I had to put my little Tortie, Bette, to sleep because of bladder cancer at age 14 and I still miss her terribly. Bette was one of the sweetest kitties that I’ve ever had and also the bossiest. She was our tiny benevolent dictator. I never realized how many daily routines she and I had until she was gone.
She came to my late husband and me a tiny kitten that was nothing but a little bag of skin and bones. Over the years my husband and I adopted many strays off of the street but none of them were in such bad a shape as she was. Since we already had four cats, the plan was to keep her for a few weeks while we got some weight on her and then find a home for her. Within a day, we knew she wasn’t going anywhere, that we’d be keeping her. Even then her larger than life personality shone through and she had this way of looking at you like you were the best thing she’d ever laid eyes on. She had medium length fur that was as soft as a bunny rabbit. She didn’t really meow, it was more a series of little yips.
When my husband passed away suddenly eight years ago, I was left with our four cats. Thank god for them because I think if I had had to go home from the hospital to a silent and empty house that would have just totally done me in. I’ve now lost three of them (RIP Spencer and Charlie) and Bette was the toughest one because although I loved all my kitties, every now and then one comes along that just grabs your heart just a little bit harder and Bette was one of those. The last one, Lorelai, is 17 and has her health issues so I know her remaining time on this earth is limited. When she goes, the last living tie to my life with E will be gone. Fortunately, I do have Aidan, a gorgeous red tabby that I adopted two years ago when he was 6 months old. He’s quite the character and is my bridge into the future.
hofeizai
I got to spend 15 years with Queen (aka Spaz. She wasn’t well trained). She was a German shepherd and collie mix, maybe with some other stuff. I was telling my wife yesterday that the day I got her for my 10th birthday was one of the best days of my life. We were volunteering at an animal shelter because our situation isn’t great for adopting a dog, but we both love them. Some shiba inu puppies found that the best of all chew toys seems to be me, and it took me back to that bratty puppy and her love of nibbling on her favorite people. She grew out of it.
I wound up walking two English sheepdogs (possibly sheep in disguise? They are big), one of which is 11 or 12. We were talking about maybe taking her home for her last few years, which brought to mind Queen’s last day. We played around, went to the park, she got to eat some human food she liked (now that I think of it, the only time I ever cooked liver), then we went to the vet. My dad and I planned on holding her as she fell asleep and passed, but she really kept fighting it. She didn’t know why we were upset, but she clearly felt that if her family was crying, she was supposed to be making them feel better. So she spent her final minutes snuggling and kissing the ones she loved.
Not a bad way to go
Phishwu
I absolutely love that you named him Reverend Jim. Now I want to get enough cats and name each after a character on Taxi.
So sorry for your loss. Losing a furry or feathered member of the family (I prefer not to think of them as pets) is always difficult. I was devastated when my umbrella cockatoo passed. As hard as it is, the joy and companionship that they bring makes it all worthwhile.
Thad
Our dog Abby (a pitbull) was a sweetheart. My eventual wife (Kirsten) got her as a foster, then adopted her when she had health problems that the foster organization seemed unwilling to deal with. Despite the reputation of her breed, she was the most gentle and friendly dog I’ve ever met. My cats tended to boss her around.
One day Kirsten and I were out for a walk and stopped in a local store. The owners had a dog, which got us talking about dogs in general, and they told the story of a dog they had to give up a few years earlier when they were homeless and living in their van. The story sounded very familiar, so Kirsten had to ask, “What was the name of your dog?” They replied, “Abby”.
And that is how we learned that Abby’s previous humans were living only a block from our house. We brought her over the next to day to visit, and several times after that. They were thrilled to know she had found a good home. Years later when Abby died of cancer, we came back and gave them a USB drive of all the pictures we had taken with Abby as she traveled the country with us in our RV, and we all sat and had a good cry.
Kristine
@Aleta: Good ol’ Sharkey ?
Kayla Rudbek
My cat Mister Dairy Junkie passed away after I left my parents’ house for graduate school. (Actually while on my way to graduate school- I think that he knew that I was leaving home for good.) He was an odd cat that never purred, although he was at least part Siamese so he was plenty vocal otherwise. And I swear that he was the most patient cat ever, putting up with being put into doll clothes or a necklace that made him look very ancient Egyptian. I still miss him and I wonder if he would go after my non-dairy foods the same way that he went after milk, cheese, and ice cream.