Beast, 1991 - 2010
I picked her out of the litter on Halloween when she was four weeks old. She was pretty much the runt of the bunch, and we made plans for my sister to bring her to me when she came down for Thanksgiving. You see, she was born four hours away from here, to my sister's neighbor across the street. We had recently lost Stinker to the traffic on our block and I was (not really, I swear!) looking for a kitty to take his place. I was up there visiting so I called the hubby and I could almost hear his eyes rolling across the miles when he sighed and said "sure, okay."
My sister informed when when she brought her into the house four weeks later that she had yowled for the entire drive. That right there should have been a clue. We named her Little Bit, because she was, but over the next couple of months she became "You %$#@* beast" because she was a biter and a scratcher and quite a nasty little monster.
Except to my husband. She had a soft spot for him, and would curl up in his lap and purr, and later on would sit on his chest in bed and rub her nose against his chin to "give kisses" on command. Then she would walk to my side of the bed and bite me.
Her name was eventually shortened to Beast, or Beastie, and she ruled the roost. She was a bit of a hussy, and when she was just a year old managed to find herself in the family way thanks to a big, long haired black cat down the block. She was so tiny that it was pitiful to watch her drag herself around, great with child. Umm ... kittens. In late January of 1993 we left the house to do music for a funeral, and she was acting oddly. This was all new to me so I really shouldn't have been surprised when she met us at the door a few hours later, saggy-bellied and no longer pregnant. She led us to the kittens which she had decided needed to be born three shelves up in the linen closet. On my Christmas tablecloth.
There were four of them, and in a few weeks we moved them (tablecloth and all) to the home we had just bought. They were adorable and a friend's sister came up and helped us decide who was what. We ended up with Opus, a male, (almost all black like his daddy and the cartoon strip penguin); Tootles, another male, tiger striped and named for the character in "Hook"; Smudge, a female, also long haired black and white with a "smudge" of black on her mostly white face; and Mr. Smee, also named for a character in "Hook". You can see what our favorite movie of the time was. Imagine our surprise when 'he' turned out to be a 'she'. We dropped the "Mr." pretty quickly. Tootles and Opus eventually wandered away, as boys are wont to do, and Smudge went to kitty heaven in June 2005.
That left us with our two old girls, mama and daughter. Neither one had any use for the dog we got a year ago so they have been living in their own private suite since then, aka our bedroom and ensuite bathroom. Beast took to sharing my pillow at night even before we got the dog, and she loved to sleep on my heating pad. So did I, so some nights it was a struggle. She started being nice to me, and I swear it was a form of kitty dementia, or else she just decided that after 18 years it wasn't worth the hassle any more.
In the past several weeks she began a rapid decline, and by Friday night wasn't able to get around much at all. We put it off too long, and the vet was already closed, but decided that we would take her this morning and have her put down if she made it through the weekend. She didn't. Hubby found her late afternoon yesterday, cold and still. I had said my goodbyes several times already, not knowing if the next time I went to check on her whether she would still be with us. The daughter had, too, I found out later.
Saturday night before bed I talked to my sister. It's only unusual in the fact that she died in October of 1994. Anyway, I talked to her as I cried and told her to please take her, and be there when she crossed over. When hubby found her yesterday he told her to wait for him and save him a place in line at the Pearly Gates. I'm sure she will, just as I'm sure she's already given my sister hell for putting her in a box and driving her down here all those years ago.
Eighteen years. That's a darned good life for a cat even if it wasn't nearly enough. I miss her so much and the tears just won't stop. I know they will, but right now? I've lost a family member.
Rest In Peace, Beastie.
My sister informed when when she brought her into the house four weeks later that she had yowled for the entire drive. That right there should have been a clue. We named her Little Bit, because she was, but over the next couple of months she became "You %$#@* beast" because she was a biter and a scratcher and quite a nasty little monster.
Except to my husband. She had a soft spot for him, and would curl up in his lap and purr, and later on would sit on his chest in bed and rub her nose against his chin to "give kisses" on command. Then she would walk to my side of the bed and bite me.
Her name was eventually shortened to Beast, or Beastie, and she ruled the roost. She was a bit of a hussy, and when she was just a year old managed to find herself in the family way thanks to a big, long haired black cat down the block. She was so tiny that it was pitiful to watch her drag herself around, great with child. Umm ... kittens. In late January of 1993 we left the house to do music for a funeral, and she was acting oddly. This was all new to me so I really shouldn't have been surprised when she met us at the door a few hours later, saggy-bellied and no longer pregnant. She led us to the kittens which she had decided needed to be born three shelves up in the linen closet. On my Christmas tablecloth.
There were four of them, and in a few weeks we moved them (tablecloth and all) to the home we had just bought. They were adorable and a friend's sister came up and helped us decide who was what. We ended up with Opus, a male, (almost all black like his daddy and the cartoon strip penguin); Tootles, another male, tiger striped and named for the character in "Hook"; Smudge, a female, also long haired black and white with a "smudge" of black on her mostly white face; and Mr. Smee, also named for a character in "Hook". You can see what our favorite movie of the time was. Imagine our surprise when 'he' turned out to be a 'she'. We dropped the "Mr." pretty quickly. Tootles and Opus eventually wandered away, as boys are wont to do, and Smudge went to kitty heaven in June 2005.
That left us with our two old girls, mama and daughter. Neither one had any use for the dog we got a year ago so they have been living in their own private suite since then, aka our bedroom and ensuite bathroom. Beast took to sharing my pillow at night even before we got the dog, and she loved to sleep on my heating pad. So did I, so some nights it was a struggle. She started being nice to me, and I swear it was a form of kitty dementia, or else she just decided that after 18 years it wasn't worth the hassle any more.
In the past several weeks she began a rapid decline, and by Friday night wasn't able to get around much at all. We put it off too long, and the vet was already closed, but decided that we would take her this morning and have her put down if she made it through the weekend. She didn't. Hubby found her late afternoon yesterday, cold and still. I had said my goodbyes several times already, not knowing if the next time I went to check on her whether she would still be with us. The daughter had, too, I found out later.
Saturday night before bed I talked to my sister. It's only unusual in the fact that she died in October of 1994. Anyway, I talked to her as I cried and told her to please take her, and be there when she crossed over. When hubby found her yesterday he told her to wait for him and save him a place in line at the Pearly Gates. I'm sure she will, just as I'm sure she's already given my sister hell for putting her in a box and driving her down here all those years ago.
Eighteen years. That's a darned good life for a cat even if it wasn't nearly enough. I miss her so much and the tears just won't stop. I know they will, but right now? I've lost a family member.
Rest In Peace, Beastie.
6 comments:
Having lost two of my own, all I can say is that you have my deepest condolences.
I'm very sorry. She was fortunate to have you and your family as her family, especially for such a long time.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Losing a pet is horrible, but it sounds like your feisty little Beast had a wonderful life with you.
Yes, Heidi and Cowboy have greeted Beastie...
My heart aches with you now.
Bless her heart. No matter how persnickity they start out, they always find a way to our hearts. *hugs*
My grandparents had a cat for that long. I have 2 cat babies myself. So sorry.
Welcome to SITS. We're happy to have you.
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