Cats, part 1

“Big” Cat

 

Some of you may remember I've been a "Dog" person most of my life until I moved to Ventura. My first four years here were at a very small place and they didn't allow pets. We did get a Gerbel (Moondoggy - but that's another story). When we moved to the "House by the Tracks" we were allowed a single cat. This is where it all began, my metamorphosis to "Guy Crazy Cat Lady". 

Over 14 years ago, we finally got the approval to get a pet in the house we rented. No Dogs allowed, just one cat. Damn. I grew up with dogs, had ‘em all my life. There always seemed to be a cat, too, but they were secondary. Dogs were “Where it’s at”. But we were only allowed a cat. Everywhere in Southern California, it’s “Spay or Neuter” Country. Free Kittens are almost nonexistent. We checked ads and grocery store bulletin boards. Someone on a “free stuff” website gave me the phone number of a farm near Camarillo that had free kittens so I called, got directions and drove there. A huge produce farm with the farmhouse rented to someone not connected to the farm operations – just renting the house. The place had a big barn, fading red paint. Reminded me of a typical Morrow County barn. Just no “Mail Pouch” ad on the side. It was filled with machinery used on the produce farm, no longer housing animals.

I knocked on the door and a jolly old lady answered and showed me into the kitchen. She said she’d call the kittens and I could take my pick. She grabbed a small cat food can from the counter, held it up in the air and popped the top with the ring tab. It makes a certain sound that all cats hear. It says, Food! Within moments, 6 kittens came galloping in and strutted back and forth at her feet. I picked a female Tabby.

After I got her home, it was “Naming Time”. Charlene came up with “Tiger Lily” or “Tiger” for short. All my life, dogs come when you call them, cats do not. I thought it was dumb to give a cat a name. I mean, they’re going to ignore it so why waste a name on a cat. So I just called her “Cat”. Damn if she didn’t learn it and come to it. So, Cat it was. Since there was no dog influence happening, I paid attention to Cat. Learned a lot about cats from her. They like to eat, play a little, use the litter box and then sleep for hours and hours. Wake up, repeat. That’s the life of a cat. Well, that and teaching us how to spoil her. She did allow me to teach her to come when I whistled, like I was whistling for a dog to come. That was pretty amazing. She pretty much would come when I called her name and whistled. Unless she was resting comfortably numb on the couch. She’d raise her head and give me one of those “Fuck You!” looks and put her head back down.

Cat loved to be pulled on a towel or small rug. You’d grab one end, she’d jump on the other and you could pull her everywhere through the house. If she fell off, she’d run to catch up and jump back on. It was hilarious. Other times, she would tear through the entire house, bouncing off doors, walls and furniture. Just a blur for minutes at a time. Then, curl up and sleep for hours. She was very entertaining. She was very beautiful, too. Most of all, she was very loving and loved being spoiled. The original “Lap Cat”. She didn’t care if you had a book, a plate or a laptop on your legs, she just jumped up and laid down, expecting you to drop everything else and pet her for an hour. Then, eat some kibbles, use the litter box and curl up somewhere else and sleep for hours. What a life our cats lead. So stressful…. not!

The only stress in her life was when we got Scout and Moose. Kittens it seems, love to play rough with their new big cat friends but the friends don’t want to and run off or fight back. Too many times we’d see Cat just sitting on the floor with Scout approaching. Scout would come face to face and sit, several inches away. She’d put her ears back, cock her head and slowly reach up with a front paw to touch Cat’s head. Instantly, Cat would lunge forward, knocking Scout on her back and stand over her, staring at her face. Then she’d back off and sit where she started. Scout would slowly get up, sit in the same spot and start the same routine again. With the identical results. You’d think after half a dozen tries, you’d try something else but Scout just kept getting up and getting knocked down again. That’s when I realized little kittens sure are dumb. This kind of stuff went on for months with Scout always the loser. Scout did minor ‘attacks’ on Cat for years until we got Moose.  At that point, Cat said enough is enough and set Moose straight the first month and Moose left her alone. But Moose attacked Scout, who ran and rarely fought back.

We enjoyed Cat’s love for years, even giving her and Scout access to our back patio. She loved the morning sunshine by the front door and the afternoon sunshine on the back patio. She’d sleep for hours past sunset on a patio chair. She loved sneaking through the flowers, chasing lizards and sniffing everything. Charlene works night shift and when she’d come home in the morning, Cat was always waiting at the front door. “I love you, I missed you, Gimme cat treats”…….

A few weeks before last Christmas, we had to “put down” Cat. In the month previous, she started getting big in the middle – not fat overall, rather like she swallowed a football sideways. And her hind hip bones were starting to show. We took her to the Animal Doctor (that’s their name) and they ran initial tests, said it was fluids and couldn’t find anything else. Charlene and I had felt for lumps and we couldn’t find anything either. So they did an Ultrasound and found an advanced Liver Cancer tumor. There was fluid in the upper chest and fluid in her lower abdomen. Cancer had spread to lymph nodes. Surgery, chemo, radiation stuff wasn’t an option. Draining fluids would be a major surgery thing and it would just fill up again quickly. It was more of a “when would you like to euthanize her” type of discussion with our Vet, Dr. K. She was very kind, very understanding, very sympathetic. She let us know what to expect as things went downhill and when it would be time for the ‘medical procedure’.

So we took Cat home. For the next 2 weeks, we spoiled her rotten. We tried to give her pain meds and anti-nausea meds but after the first day, she refused. The Animal Doctor would call every couple of days and check up on her. I remember one of Charlene’s e-mails to the vet stating the things Cat ate that day: “a little cat food, bacon, Caviar on White Castles– heck, we’d give her a shot of Vodka if she wanted it”. Yes, I did give her Caviar on a White Castle hamburger. I told you we were spoiling her rotten.

Doctor K had told us the telltale signs to watch for, how to tell when Cat was suffering. About two weeks later we knew it was time. We arranged for Dr. P, an in-home Hospice Vet to come to us. She was marvelous. I think she is part animal therapist, part people psychologist and a 100% great Vet. She did post-grad work in Animal-Human Relationships. She even gave us a book she had written on how to deal with the loss of a loving pet. She spent half-an-hour explaining the steps she would take and what we would experience as Cat was put to sleep. When the time came, Cat was under the Christmas tree and it was going to be a struggle to get her out as her head was into the tree ‘trunk’ and her butt was facing us.

 Cat loved sleeping under the Christmas tree. She would be there for hours every day we had the tree up, every Christmas. We had to arrange the presents under the tree to accommodate her. One of the telltale signs that the end was near was Cat started hiding. She would face a wall and sleep there, her body sticking out. Now she was ‘hiding’ under the tree, her head against the trunk and her butt facing outward.
 

Dr. P got down under the tree and gave Cat a sedative so we didn’t have to traumatize her pulling her out from under the tree. We waited till she was in ‘sleepy land’, picked her up and put her on Charlene’s lap. I sat next to Charlene. Over the next half hour, Dr. P administered the meds to release Cat from suffering.

 When it was over, Dr. P took Cat’s body to The Animal Doctor who arranged for cremation. The next morning, the doorbell rang. It was a special delivery of a single red rose and a sympathy card from Dr. P. She even called to see how we were doing. She’s such a caring person.

A week later, I picked up Cat’s ashes from The Animal Doctor. A beautiful Cedar Chest with brass hardware including a lock. On top, a big metal plate with her real name, “Tiger Lilly”. We think about her daily.
 

She taught me all about cats. She was a patient teacher and I love her so much for that. Because of her, I became the Guy Crazy Cat Lady. We all miss and love you, Cat.