black-and-white cat – Page 33

A Moment of Grief

I had President’s Day off a couple of weeks ago and the weather was unusually warm, so after heading up to Ridgefield in the morning and working outside in the afternoon, I cleaned out the inside of the Civic and prepared to wash the outside. Realizing I had forgotten to replace the broken hose in the front of the house and with it too late to go hiking, I decided to let the cats out into the backyard for a little bit.

Scout is an old hand at backyard time, but it was the first time for Sam and Emma. I quickly realized I wouldn’t be able to keep a close enough eye on both the kittens to make sure they understood that they were to stay in the yard, so I gathered them up and dropped them inside while I let Scout stay out a bit longer.

Turning from the door and seeing Scout alone in the yard I was overwhelmed with the thought that Templeton wasn’t there. A sudden wave of grief hit me and I was thankful Scout didn’t want to stay out long. The grief passed quickly, but it was so strong and so unexpected that I felt it physically long after. Every day during the warmer months, we’d go out back when I came home from work, so we spent a lot of time together there. Back inside, I was unable to concentrate on anything and eventually went up to take a bath and not think about anything.

The cats came up when they heard the tub filling up, they always look at me like I’m half-insane for intentionally submerging myself in water. They took turns sitting outside the bathroom door and sitting beside the tub, waiting for me to come to my senses and get up out of the water.

Infirmary

Emma had a scheduled visit to the vet today for shots which she didn’t end up getting. We had noticed some bumps under her fur so they shaved the area and are going to run some tests to see what might be causing them. In the meantime, Emma gets an ointment rubbed into the area, antibiotics, and this lovely bib. Scout, who still has one more week of antibiotics her own self, came over to commiserate. Emma may not look too thrilled to have her moment of indignity posted to the web, but she joins some mighty fine company.

She did manage to get out of the bib earlier tonight, I heard a loud thump in the litter box room, then Emma came running out sans bib and I found the bib rubbed into some fresh droppings in the litter box.

She knows how to make a point, I’ll give her that.

A Little Good News

Scout passed her yearly exam at the vet with flying colors. My wife reports that she was even snuggling up to the staff and giving them her little headbutts — probably trying to make up for the last time when she jumped up to the little gap above the cabinets and settled in for a nap, forcing them to get a stepstool to get her down.

And no matter how it may seem, this blog hasn’t gone all cats, all the time — it has helped me a great deal to talk about Templeton here, but I’ll start mixing the cat stories in with some of my wildlife pictures, as I have a bit of a backlog building up.

Dreams

I had the nicest dream last night, which is certainly not the norm.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Templeton and Scout and I were all playing in the backyard, just like we did every summer afternoon. It was one of those dreams that just goes on and on, nothing but the three of us playing. When it was time to go in, I went to the door and called the cats. They came running to me, and as Templeton ran up to me he vanished before my eyes.

Gone but not forgotten.

Today’s picture comes from this summer, I had taken them outside after work like always. It was getting late in the evening but still plenty of light so not time to go inside. Scout was sitting in front of one of the rose bushes when a scrub jay landed on the roof, causing her to look up.

One Week

It was a week ago that we first realized something was wrong with Templeton and rushed him to the vet. We picked up his ashes this morning. On the way out the door, I was reminded of the Monty Python skit in which the undertaker tells a young man that they can cremate his dead mother and “then you get a box of ashes, which you can pretend are hers.”

The little tin we picked up (which was surprisingly heavy) has a sticker on the bottom that says the ashes are from a certified private cremation for Templeton, but I have my doubts. As we drove home, no ethereal howls emanated from the tin.

None.

Templeton hated riding in the car. Sometimes before we were married, I’d bring Templeton up to my apartment to visit for a week. When we left my wife’s apartment, he’d already be meowing at full strength. He’d keep it up during the half hour drive, somehow getting louder on the way, so that by the time we pulled into my parking lot the car windows were rattling and passers by were giving me dirty looks.

So you’ll forgive me for thinking that even death couldn’t silence Templeton during a car ride.

On the plus side, Scout has been doing as well as I could hope. She’s clearly bothered by his absence and staying closer to us than normal, but towards the end of the week she’s increasingly been sleeping in her old places. She’s eating and playing and sleeping with us at night. Today’s picture was taken Thursday night while she was curled up in the cat bed beside my desk.

We’ve been talking about the right time to add another cat or two to the household. I’m ready but it’s hard to say about Scout — I think she’ll be happiest with other cats, based on how much she loved having Templeton around, but I don’t want her to think we’re trying to replace him. She has her yearly exam on Monday so we’ll see what the vet thinks.

The upcoming holidays would be a good time since we’d be home as they got used to each other, but we’ll see.

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.

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.

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.

Oh Templeton, I’m Ready To Play!

Here’s To The Next 15

Happy Birthday to Templeton! He turns 15 today.

I tried to get a nice picture of him but he wouldn’t pose for me, so I settled for a picture of both him and Scout sitting in our smaller picture window. I’ll try for a better picture later. He’s been hanging out in my office a lot lately, this weekend we’ve spent a lot of time cuddled up and purring. Well one of us was purring, the other was wishing he could.