boolie

A Gentle Soul

If you were one of the vets who looked after Templeton during his life, “gentle” is not the first word that would come to mind when describing him. Or the second word. Or the third. Or the tenth. Or the … well, you get the idea. He hated going to the vet. It was nothing personal, we had some great ones here in Portland and in Salem, but his personality changed completely and he got very stressed and hostile.

Legends were written. Tales were told.

“My name is Templeton, cat of cats:
Look on my paws, ye mighty, and despair!”

Even at home, he wasn’t too crazy about strangers, particularly young ones. He could run away to a safe spot at home, though, and he certainly mellowed out later in life and would even come up and greet some of our visitors. But with my wife and I, Templeton was gentle and loving, he loved to curl up on our laps and purr like mad. Even so, we weren’t quite sure what he’d make of Scout when we first brought her home in May of 2001, as he had been the only cat for much of his life.

We needn’t have worried.

He didn’t like to cuddle up with Scout, but he did play with her at times, he groomed her, and he just flat out put up with her when she had lots of kitten energy but not lots of kitten sense.

This isn’t the greatest picture, it was taken with a little compact camera, but it illustrates how good he was with her. She had been with us less than two months at this point, and would sometimes spring onto his back like she was a rodeo rider, and then start biting on his head. At this stage, he’d let her get away with it and let her work out her energy. Eventually he started giving her a gentle little wap to the head when she played too rough, training her on how to get along with others, and she came around and stopped the head biting and learned to play nice.

He never lost his love for play, even right up to the end. He lost some muscle mass in his last year or so and certainly couldn’t jump as high as he used to, but he and Scout would still chase each other around the back yard during their supervised outdoor time, and even at fifteen years old he was so fast that he could easily keep up with Scout.

We should all age so well. We should all live so well.

The Great White Belly

Templeton loved his belly rubs. And with that great soft white belly of his, I couldn’t resist giving them.

Sometimes I’d surprise him, he’d be sleeping and roll over to let off some heat, and I’d gently start to rub his belly. Sometimes he’d make kneading motions into the air with his paws, sometimes he’d wrap his arms around mine, always accompanied by that wonderful purr.

Sometimes, though, he’d use his belly to his advantage. The first time Templeton came to live with me was when I was still in school in Virginia but my wife had already moved out to Oregon. Templeton stayed with me for a few months and kept me company while I finished up my dissertation. I’d be working at my desk and out of the corner of my eye, I’d see him walking in my direction. He’d suddenly stop and flop down on his back, exposing his white belly to the world. He’d watch me and wait for his belly rub. If I didn’t get up, he’d hop up, move a few feet closer, and then flop down again and wait for his belly rub.

I never tested how many times he was willing to get up and move closer, even if I managed to resist the first siren’s call he’d usually draw me in by the second or third time.

Today’s picture comes from just before Christmas 2005, just before that awful night when Templeton swallowed a sewing needle. The wooden grate he’s sleeping on has a warm air vent just below it, so it became a favorite location of the cats our first winter here in Portland. Scout discovered the wonders of the grate first, but Templeton quickly learned from her experience.

Akimbo

Yesterday evening I wasn’t sure if I was going to be up to going to work today, but looking at pictures and writing here was cathartic enough that I felt up to it this morning. I managed pretty well for the most part, though at one point I needed a breather and went outside to walk a number of laps around the track. The Canada geese didn’t seem to mind that my eyes were watering.

When I came back in, I sent this picture of Templeton from my laptop to my work account and set it as my background on my second monitor. I normally keep both monitors covered with the applications I’m working with, but I intentionally kept the second monitor clear so I could see Templeton. It’s a large monitor so he was watching over me all afternoon, larger than life.

His gorgeous green eyes seemed to do the trick and I was fine the rest of the day — right up until I walked into the house and there wasn’t a little gray head popping around the door to welcome me home. Scout came running in to meet my like she usually does, so I played with her for a while until I finally got hungry enough to eat something. She slept in her warm bed for a bit before disappearing to sleep in the heating ducts, but has now returned to the warm bed beside me. She’s doing pretty well all things considered.

While looking through some old pictures I found a little movie clip of Scout as a kitten riding on Templeton’s back and biting down on his head. It was taken with a little digital camera that had very low resolution and poor quality, but it made me laugh and certainly shows how tolerant he was with her. Other pictures from the same time show him giving her a bath and cleaning out her ears. Her ears have always been clean thanks to him, so I guess it will be up to us to take over.

I’ll post the picture of her biting on Templeton’s head at some point (it’s a shame I took it with our little camera instead of the SLR, but I didn’t have much warning and thankfully she grew out of her head biting phase). Today’s picture is a little more serene and another one from 2001, Templeton zonked out in my window seat, legs all akimbo. I chose this one today because it reflected a change in his attitude towards me.

I first met Templeton back when I met my wife, and at first he was a little jealous of the attention I was getting, so he’d nip my ankles and then run off. That only lasted for a day or two, he quickly realized that I loved to play with him and so we became partners in crime.

After my wife and I got married a few years later and moved in together, I got to see Templeton every day. At first he still thought of me as the one to play with and my wife the one to go up and snuggle with when he was ready to sleep. But as the months progressed, he came to see me as someone to curl up next to as well. I eventually put a pillow on my desk so he could curl up beside me, but sometimes the quilts on the window seat were just as inviting.

Templeton didn’t open up so completely to just anyone, so I was thankful for times like these when he chose to be near me. To fully appreciate the picture, you’ll have to purr happily to yourself. He had a lovely loud purr and wasn’t shy about using it when he was with those he loved.

Missing One

I’ve been re-editing some pictures of Templeton, it was hard at first but it has helped me feel better in the past hour or so, and writing these posts has helped as well.

It will be interesting to see how Scout will deal with the loss of Templeton — she has worshipped him since the day we brought her home. She’s gotten more independent as she’s gotten older, but she still loves to play with him. Shortly before we took Templeton to the vet, she walked over beside him, plonked down on her back, and grabbed his head with her front paws, her classic invitation to play.

The poor guy was so spent that he could barely move, so I pulled Scout away. It turned out to be their last moment together.

She’s done OK today, she obviously knows that he’s not around and has been hanging out with me most of the day. I don’t think the full gravity of the situation has hit her yet, after all he did disappear for a week a couple of years ago when he needed surgery after swallowing a needle and our friend Heather graciously looked after him while we were out of town visiting family for the holidays.

Scout is zonked out beside me now in her heated bed, last winter this was one of Templeton’s favorite hangouts but he didn’t want to sleep there this year. Scout was happy enough to take over, which is nice as it sits next to my desk. She was snoring a little while ago but has quieted down now.

We’re about to head up to bed where she’ll curl up on top of me for the night. A positive end to a difficult day.

This picture is from January 2002, Scout (on the right) was 8 months old and curled up with Templeton whenever she got the chance. They’re sleeping in the window seat in my office at our old house in Keizer, a favorite place of mine to curl up with them.

Remembrance

Today’s been an emotional roller coaster. When I awoke from the comfort of sleep this morning, I thought I was going to be OK. And I was for a while, but as the day wore on Templeton’s absence was too hard to ignore — Christmas was one of his favorite times.

I put up the Christmas tree yesterday, and that was the first time I realized something was wrong with Templeton. He loved the tree and the big box it came in, and when he didn’t come upstairs while I assembled it, I went down to get him. He wasn’t interested in the tree and was all hunched over when he walked — we left for the vet a little while later. In the space of a few hours I went from thinking he was fine to holding him as he died.

Today we decorated the tree and put up the rest of the Christmas decorations. There was the nativity set he loved to stick his head in, the ornaments he liked to play with, the tree he liked to sleep under and the tree skirt he loved to sleep on (and hack up hairballs on), the decoration that he’d chew on if we didn’t watch him, the wrapping paper he loved to play on.

Normally when I’m upset I like to snuggle up with Templeton — he loved to snuggle and would emit this wonderful purr that helped me relax. He was just so happy when he was with the ones he loved. I wish I could do that now.

I’m working on a novel in which the pets of my life are the major characters — Templeton of course is one of the main characters in the first story. One of the joys of writing is that these characters have lived in my head for the past couple of years, a mixture of the pets in real life and the characters from the story, and thinking about them has helped me when I’m down. One of the central themes of the story is dealing with loss, so they have come in useful over the past year.

Those voices have been silenced temporarily, as the present loss overwhelms my thoughts, but in the long term I know they will return. One of the characters is based on a dog named Ginger that we had when I was in college but who died very young, it’s been a joy to have her character from the book bring that lovely little dog back into remembrance on a daily basis.

I know someday soon the same will be true for Templeton, but for now it is time to grieve.

Yesterday’s picture was from January 2001 when we lived in Keizer, Templeton was playing with one of his catnip bags and took a momentary break. I had just gotten my first digital camera the week before at Christmas, so it’s one of my earliest digital pictures.

Today’s picture is from December 2004 and taken at our house here in Portland, he’s watching the Christ child in the nativity set.

Templeton 1992-2007

Everything seemed normal yesterday. Templeton died in our arms tonight.

We arrived home yesterday from a trip back east to attend my grandmother’s funeral, and Templeton ran to meet us at the door, much like when he waits by the door to greet me when I come home from work.

He seemed fine yesterday, but he was having problems this evening so we rushed him down to DoveLewis Emergency Animal Hospital (the same folks who performed surgery to remove the sewing needle he swallowed a couple of years ago). The x-rays showed a mass that was making it difficult for him to breathe, and since he wasn’t going to be able to get enough oxygen, they gave him an injection and he died peacefully in our arms.

It’s a sad night for us and I feel miserable, but I’m thankful that he didn’t suffer and I’m very thankful for the fifteen wonderful years he spent with us. He was as magnificent a little creature as I’ve ever known.

Goodbye, little one, and thank you.

Oh Hello Helio

Imagine my surprise a few weeks back to be watching TV and hear that Helio Castroneves was on Dancing With The Stars. I don’t normally watch the show, but Helio was one of my favorite drivers back when I followed open wheel racing. I caught a couple of his appearances and he had the same great attitude and winning smile from when he stormed on the Indy car scene way back when.

This picture of Helio is from June of 2001 at Portland International Raceway, taken as he prepared to climb in the cockpit. He was driving for one of the most storied teams in Indy car racing, Penske Racing, and had just won his first Indy 500 a few weeks earlier (he’d win another the following year). The Penske team switched to a rival league the following year that didn’t race at road tracks like Portland, so this was the last time I got to watch Helio drive in person. I eventually lost interest in racing due to the ridiculous fighting between the rival leagues, but it was still fun to see one of my old favorites pop up in the news again (and go on to win the dance competition no less).

Fleabitis

About a month ago, Scout’s normal herky-jerky grooming moves suddenly got too aggressive and she started pulling out her fur in clumps. A quick trip to the vet revealed that she had gotten a couple of flea bites during her outdoor playtime, and apparently Scout is extremely allergic to the bites. She got a flea treatment and a steroid injection (and can now lift a car over her head), it took about a week but she did return to normal. The hair has started to grow back on her belly and tail, but it will be a little thin for a while yet.

NOTE: If you’re looking for info on the medical condition fleabitis and not a joke about my cat’s flea allergy, it’s actually spelled phlebitis, and you can find more info on it at places like the Mayo Clinic or any other source of medical info on the web.

A Familiar Conversation

Whenever I’m editing pictures of Templeton and he walks by, we always have a similar conversation. As he casually saunters by, he’ll stop and stare at the monitor. “Oh my goodness, that cat is gorgeous!”

I say nothing.

He turns and says, “I mean all cats are good looking, but this one is just beautiful — did you take this picture?”

“You know that it’s you!”

Templeton squints at the monitor. “It is me!”

“Pride comes before a fall, little one.”

“A falling cat always lands on its feet.”

“Touché.”

Fitful Sleep

There were several aspects I wanted to capture in this picture of an elk in Yellowstone National Park. There’s a slightly comical aspect in that the sleeping bull is almost invisible save for his antlers which stick up out of the tall grass and completely betray his presence. The bull isn’t really trying to hide, but I wondered if he wouldn’t have preferred at that moment to be able to just take the antlers off while he slept, if only so he could lay his head wherever and however he liked.

I also wanted to convey the exhaustion the bulls feel at the end of the rut. He slept most of the time I watched him, but couldn’t resist raising his head and answering the call whenever another bull bugled in the distance. Fortunately all of the people watching him kept their distance so he was able to rest in the quiet periods. A couple of weeks before I visited, one of the bulls had its neck snapped while it was sparring with one of the other bulls. These fights usually aren’t fatal, but add in disease, predators, and the long winter, and I do wonder how many of the animals I see will still be around come spring.