Post by Rodak on Nov 12, 2007 14:32:34 GMT -5
And I killed him.
He had been losing weight, and recently I noticed that it was getting BAD.
I thought it was just old age at first... I had him for almost 15 years.
He'd been hiding for a couple days, and I had barely seen him.
The vet said it was cancer.
Advanced and Terminal.
I had to have him put down.
I posted this story here before, but here it is again... just because (call it therapy...)
Here is the story of how I met this wonderful creature and how he adopted me -
Long Story Warning!
I was going back to school as an adult and brought in to the house I was renting many people so I could afford to live and be a student. One of them had a beautiful and freindly black cat. We became freinds pretty quickly (me and the cat, not the people).
These people liked to mistreat the cat. They often chased him and tried to scare him just to watch him run. He was very fast, but that is no excuse.
One day I witnessed one of this guy's friends flick a lit cigarette at the cat. The cat started to bolt and I jumped over him, picked up the cigarette and flicked it right back at the person. It bounced off his forehead in a shower of sparks.
I was proud of that. (Still am proud of that!)
He had the nerve to get mad at me for this and asked why I did that. I told him that the cat lives here and he did not.
You have to realize, I am not an impressive physical specimen. I am in my forties and still weigh only about 130 pounds. I study Aikido so I can take care of myself, but anytime I try to stand someone down it presents an amusing image.
Anyway, after almost getting in a fight, but walking away claiming I was letting the fellow off with a warning, I went up to my room and shut the door.
Moments later there was a scratching at my door. It was Dummy (as I called him...). He wanted to be with me.
He spent the night in my room with me. Then every night after that he did the same thing.
A year and a half later it came time to part ways and the cat owner owed me a couple hundred dollars (I've got this fetish about keeping the utilities on) (mmmmmm, Utilities!) and I knew I'd never see him again, so I told him to just give me the cat.
He tried to argue that he wanted to keep the animal. So we did the old movie-scene thing where we each call the cat and see who he goes to. I was calling "Dummy" and he came to me.
He became one of my best freinds and we were together for over a decade. I always called him Dummy and he always came when I called him (very rare for a cat). He sleept in my room and was always happy to see me.
I never liked cats (I grew up with big dogs) until this poor creature proved the old saying "You don't adopt cats, they adopt you."
Just recently I saved a kitten from being strayed in an ice storm.
I witnessed the dump the creature out of a box and shove it with his foot yelling "Git!"
And this was at work!! (I work in an industrial park).
I wanted to hurt that person. Since I do the quality control there I just make sure that everything he does is Perfect or it gets rejected.
I wound up keeping her and the two cats got along nicely.
Now she is acting skittish. I think she fears that I'm going to take her away next. I hope she gets over it soon.
OK, I'm done ranting - Now to try to drink my tears away and toast the memory of the greatest pet I ever had.
Rest in Peace Dummy. Your work here is done.
He had been losing weight, and recently I noticed that it was getting BAD.
I thought it was just old age at first... I had him for almost 15 years.
He'd been hiding for a couple days, and I had barely seen him.
The vet said it was cancer.
Advanced and Terminal.
I had to have him put down.
I posted this story here before, but here it is again... just because (call it therapy...)
Here is the story of how I met this wonderful creature and how he adopted me -
Long Story Warning!
I was going back to school as an adult and brought in to the house I was renting many people so I could afford to live and be a student. One of them had a beautiful and freindly black cat. We became freinds pretty quickly (me and the cat, not the people).
These people liked to mistreat the cat. They often chased him and tried to scare him just to watch him run. He was very fast, but that is no excuse.
One day I witnessed one of this guy's friends flick a lit cigarette at the cat. The cat started to bolt and I jumped over him, picked up the cigarette and flicked it right back at the person. It bounced off his forehead in a shower of sparks.
I was proud of that. (Still am proud of that!)
He had the nerve to get mad at me for this and asked why I did that. I told him that the cat lives here and he did not.
You have to realize, I am not an impressive physical specimen. I am in my forties and still weigh only about 130 pounds. I study Aikido so I can take care of myself, but anytime I try to stand someone down it presents an amusing image.
Anyway, after almost getting in a fight, but walking away claiming I was letting the fellow off with a warning, I went up to my room and shut the door.
Moments later there was a scratching at my door. It was Dummy (as I called him...). He wanted to be with me.
He spent the night in my room with me. Then every night after that he did the same thing.
A year and a half later it came time to part ways and the cat owner owed me a couple hundred dollars (I've got this fetish about keeping the utilities on) (mmmmmm, Utilities!) and I knew I'd never see him again, so I told him to just give me the cat.
He tried to argue that he wanted to keep the animal. So we did the old movie-scene thing where we each call the cat and see who he goes to. I was calling "Dummy" and he came to me.
He became one of my best freinds and we were together for over a decade. I always called him Dummy and he always came when I called him (very rare for a cat). He sleept in my room and was always happy to see me.
I never liked cats (I grew up with big dogs) until this poor creature proved the old saying "You don't adopt cats, they adopt you."
Just recently I saved a kitten from being strayed in an ice storm.
I witnessed the dump the creature out of a box and shove it with his foot yelling "Git!"
And this was at work!! (I work in an industrial park).
I wanted to hurt that person. Since I do the quality control there I just make sure that everything he does is Perfect or it gets rejected.
I wound up keeping her and the two cats got along nicely.
Now she is acting skittish. I think she fears that I'm going to take her away next. I hope she gets over it soon.
OK, I'm done ranting - Now to try to drink my tears away and toast the memory of the greatest pet I ever had.
Rest in Peace Dummy. Your work here is done.