Our little Theo died Friday - Democratic Underground

lukasahero

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Mon Dec-12-05 03:31 PM
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Our little Theo died Friday

Can I tell you his story?

We found him in a Walmart parking lot in July this year - or should I say he found me? I was in the garden shop and he was across the lot calling to me - literally - meowing up a storm trying to be noticed. I dropped whatever it was that had brought me in there and went out to see if I could pet him. Well, boy could I. He was a little hesitant at first but then came up to me and rubbed his face all over me. He was so excited he was drooling. He climbed up on my legs to rub my face and even let me pick him up and hold him.

We weren't looking to have a cat but when I got up to walk away, he followed me - right into the car. (Ok, so I wasn't moving very fast, I admit.) We figured we'd bring him home and try to find his owners - yeah, like cats that show up in Walmart parking lots have owners who are looking for them. We put up posters, made calls, plastered the internet with info about this little guy but no owners came to call.

We took him to the vet, got his shots, found out he was a boy (we didn't check too closely and never figured a neutered cat would be abandoned - we were even calling him Matilda until the vet set us straight) and had softpaws put on him - flaming pink to match the pretty pink collar I had already bought "her". We found out that officially he was less than two but figured he was really only just about a year. Also found that one of the vet techs had seen him in the same place a week before so he'd been out there abandoned for at least a week.

He was afraid of the dog at first and we really worried that he wasn't going to adjust (11 year old dog comes first so adjustment was a requirement for keeping him) but adjust he did. In 6 months he learned to love the dog (even laid right next to him on the bed last Wednesday after said dog had a round of seizures and was being spoiled - the dog, at a hundred pounds, takes up a bit too much room to sleep on the bed routinely). He learned how to play and I had a stocking full of toys ready to spoil him with on Christmas morning - not the "pre-packaged" pet stocking either - a real stocking filled with all sorts of toys that I had specifically picked out for this little charmer who needed a little spoiling after his rocky start in life (they will be donated to a local shelter in honor of his memory).

He was afraid of everything (the original "scaredy cat") but so damn curious that he just couldn't resist checking everything out. Obviously becoming more secure with his new home and family, he still spooked at the slightest change in environment but he grew more and more bold - we felt bad having to punish him for exploring the Christmas tree but since his idea of exploration there consisted of chewing on the lights, it seemed the safest thing to do.

He loved his routines: wake mom at 6:10 so she wouldn't be late for the train by sitting on her, then rubbing your face against hers and when all else failed, touching her face with your pink-toed paws; wait and watch for the dog to return after each walk and romp - even occasionally meowing when the dog comes back to let us know he was home - and then learning to retaliate for all the times the dog ate his food by nibbling on the dog's biscuits; get daddy's attention in the closet in the morning while he was trying to put on his shoes by climbing up on his knees and into his lap, get put back on the floor, repeat; sit in mummy's lap in the evening watching TV - cuddle right up on her shoulder and purr and snuggle and stretch and touch her face; and finally, when it was time for bed, decide that really meant it was "playtime!" but only until it was time to curl up behind mummy's knees and go to sleep in the nice warm home with the nice new family he had found and purr the night away.

Friday afternoon he developed a blood clot from the enlarged heart we didn't know he had and by 6 pm he was dead. He was happy and playful when I left for work in the morning and he was gone by the time I came home. Both my husband and I were with him in the hospital when he died. "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" was playing in the background as we kissed his little white toes and little pink toenails goodbye. He might have been 18 months old. He had always seemed to understand that he had been "saved" as he used to look at us like we were heroes but alas, we were only human and in the end we couldn't protect him from his own genetics. I can tell you this: for 6 months of his all-too-short little life, he knew he was loved. He had a family and he had a home. He is missed. And he will not be forgotten.

Thanks for "listening".

In loving memory of Theo:

And his little pink toenails: