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Jul. 10th, 2004 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
senoritafishSomeone in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bookcrossing reminded me of this book, The Cat Who Went to Heaven. I think I read it when I was still in school; I must have checked it out of the library, because I don't believe I ever had a copy. It won a Newberry award in 1931, but it is still in print.
I have a sudden strong desire to read it again.
It's so hard to believe only three weeks ago he was jumping on the neighbor's dog and walking around the block with us. Bob's litter box is still in the bathroom.I guess I've been reluctant to clean it out and put it away. It gives the illusion he's still here. Cats have no possessions; other than a few snips of his fur that John sealed in a plastic bag, he's left nothing of himself behind. I feel awful that I was not in the room when he left us.
That morning, when I went in to take a shower, he reached out his paw and set it on my foot as I stood by the tub adjusting the temperature, with just enough claws to hold it there. During the day while I was at work, he still joined John when using the facilities. I think without talking to each other, we had both thought that when he could no longer move or became incontinent, that would be the time to take him to the vet. Neither ever occurred.
The kids really needed a bath, so I moved him to his cupboard shelf so he wouldn't get stepped on, giving him a hug before I did so. Apparently, he didn't like that, so he got down, laid in front of the toilet, then back to the tub, even though the kids were splashing. I moved him again before they got out, dried them off and got them ready for bed. I kept looking in on him as I did so and I noticed he kept changing positions; every time he was in a different place. I stopped to pet him occasionally, and he was still purring, although weakly. I sat down at the computer for few minutes to wait until Avalon was finally settled down in bed, and then I was going to sit with him for awhile - I didn't want her climbing all over me and bothering him. After a final time of chasing her back to her bed - she was fighting me especially vehemently that night- I looked the bathroom again and saw his head was in an awkward position; then I realized he was gone. I had wanted to be with him when the time came, and I was probably less than six feet away, but I guess that is the way of cats, to go off by themselves. Holding back tears, I went and told the kids that if they wanted to pet him one last time, they needed to do it before they went to sleep. They all responded as they have been. Gareth started wailing, Avalon just pointed at him, and said "Bob dead!" and Angus was angry. "Stop being sad!" he shouted at us, with tears streaming down his own face. "He's just a cat!" John came charging in from the garage because he heard Gareth crying and thought someone had been hurt. We all held each other for awhile, John got the kids to go to sleep, and I sat with Bob and petted him, trying to remember the way his fur feels, for how long I don't know, more than an hour. Not long enough. I kept thinking I felt vibrations through my fingers, or caught the movement of breathing out of the corner of my eye. John gently told me he had to take him away; I asked him for some scissors first, and clipped a little bit of his fur, some striped and some white. Then I set him in a box to be taken out the garage, until morning. John made me take a Vicodin to go to sleep, but I still didn't until nearly 4:30 am.
John got up early to start digging; that side yard has gone to weeds and hasn't been watered for a long time, so the ground was like concrete. He wound up having to borrow a posthole digger from the neighbors. I said I could do it, but he insisted, as the last thing he could do for him. Bob is now lying next to Termite, who was his buddy before Stimpy. I hope she was waiting for him.
I guess what really bothers me is that he left the same way my mom did. By himself, when I left the room. I wanted to be with him. But as I told Onna earlier, I think in the end, he made the decision himself. If I know him, he stalked off to avoid the noise the kids were making (we are a loud bunch), flicking his truncated tail in irritation the whole time.
But every once in a while, when it's quiet, I still think I still hear that familiar thrumming....
bookcrossing reminded me of this book, The Cat Who Went to Heaven. I think I read it when I was still in school; I must have checked it out of the library, because I don't believe I ever had a copy. It won a Newberry award in 1931, but it is still in print.I have a sudden strong desire to read it again.
It's so hard to believe only three weeks ago he was jumping on the neighbor's dog and walking around the block with us. Bob's litter box is still in the bathroom.I guess I've been reluctant to clean it out and put it away. It gives the illusion he's still here. Cats have no possessions; other than a few snips of his fur that John sealed in a plastic bag, he's left nothing of himself behind. I feel awful that I was not in the room when he left us.
That morning, when I went in to take a shower, he reached out his paw and set it on my foot as I stood by the tub adjusting the temperature, with just enough claws to hold it there. During the day while I was at work, he still joined John when using the facilities. I think without talking to each other, we had both thought that when he could no longer move or became incontinent, that would be the time to take him to the vet. Neither ever occurred.
The kids really needed a bath, so I moved him to his cupboard shelf so he wouldn't get stepped on, giving him a hug before I did so. Apparently, he didn't like that, so he got down, laid in front of the toilet, then back to the tub, even though the kids were splashing. I moved him again before they got out, dried them off and got them ready for bed. I kept looking in on him as I did so and I noticed he kept changing positions; every time he was in a different place. I stopped to pet him occasionally, and he was still purring, although weakly. I sat down at the computer for few minutes to wait until Avalon was finally settled down in bed, and then I was going to sit with him for awhile - I didn't want her climbing all over me and bothering him. After a final time of chasing her back to her bed - she was fighting me especially vehemently that night- I looked the bathroom again and saw his head was in an awkward position; then I realized he was gone. I had wanted to be with him when the time came, and I was probably less than six feet away, but I guess that is the way of cats, to go off by themselves. Holding back tears, I went and told the kids that if they wanted to pet him one last time, they needed to do it before they went to sleep. They all responded as they have been. Gareth started wailing, Avalon just pointed at him, and said "Bob dead!" and Angus was angry. "Stop being sad!" he shouted at us, with tears streaming down his own face. "He's just a cat!" John came charging in from the garage because he heard Gareth crying and thought someone had been hurt. We all held each other for awhile, John got the kids to go to sleep, and I sat with Bob and petted him, trying to remember the way his fur feels, for how long I don't know, more than an hour. Not long enough. I kept thinking I felt vibrations through my fingers, or caught the movement of breathing out of the corner of my eye. John gently told me he had to take him away; I asked him for some scissors first, and clipped a little bit of his fur, some striped and some white. Then I set him in a box to be taken out the garage, until morning. John made me take a Vicodin to go to sleep, but I still didn't until nearly 4:30 am.
John got up early to start digging; that side yard has gone to weeds and hasn't been watered for a long time, so the ground was like concrete. He wound up having to borrow a posthole digger from the neighbors. I said I could do it, but he insisted, as the last thing he could do for him. Bob is now lying next to Termite, who was his buddy before Stimpy. I hope she was waiting for him.
I guess what really bothers me is that he left the same way my mom did. By himself, when I left the room. I wanted to be with him. But as I told Onna earlier, I think in the end, he made the decision himself. If I know him, he stalked off to avoid the noise the kids were making (we are a loud bunch), flicking his truncated tail in irritation the whole time.
But every once in a while, when it's quiet, I still think I still hear that familiar thrumming....
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-10 01:13 am (UTC)I really feel for you & your family.
I remember when Pussy (my family members were VERY innocent, heh) died. My parents & older sister got her shortly before I was born. She was 16 when she died; I was 15. I grew up with her.
She was loving & affectionate and damn well scratched the hell out of me when I was young, before I learned respect for her. She was with us through 3 different houses, including a couple of short holidays (once with us, once without us) at my grandparents' place in Canberra when we were in transit.
She liked cheese, and spaghetti. She ate the top of a sponge cake Mum got for my birthday once, and left on the kitchen counter for a whole 10 minutes. ::g::
She got old and sick very gracefully for the most part, 'cos as you know cats generally aren't complainers. She moved a little more slowly, slept a little more, dribbled a little more. She died by herself, too, in her comfy basket in the laundry. I still get teary thinking about it.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 08:25 pm (UTC)I guess I thought we had at least a couple more more years. At the beginning of the month he seemed perfectly fine. Took us by surprise, although I guess it shouldn't have.
I still miss my previous cats too. I had Ringo from the time I waas in second grade to after I graduated from college. Termite was probably the sweetest little girl I ever had (if not the brightest bulb). But I think Bob had the most personality. He shoved his way into my life, and it's never going to be quite the same again.
no subject
Date: 2004-07-10 03:03 am (UTC)Bob was a good cat.
*nods nods*
no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-10 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-13 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-11 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 08:33 pm (UTC)