::Onions:: I've lost my best friend. (Off-Topic)
We are assembled here today to pay final respects to our honored dead. And yet it should be noted that in the midst of our sorrow, this death takes place in the shadow of new life, the sunrise of a new world; a world that our beloved comrade gave his life to protect and nourish. He did not feel this sacrifice a vain or empty one, and we will not debate his profound wisdom at these proceedings. Of my friend, I can only say this: of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most... human.
I was going to make this members only, but... I want everyone to know of this. So here I go.
I lost a member of my family today. I will never, but ever, have a Cat like this little one ever again. I'm overjoyed with the 14 years of memories, deeply sad that such joy must end. That such a raw truth had to pass. So now I sit here, half in slow tears, doing what social creatures do. Share the burden so that I may settle my grief a steady weight to spare myself of it all crashing upon me. I task myself with the impossible; trying to describe what made this one-of-a-kind creature so it's own.
Born November 28th, of 2002, and blessed to us in early 2003 (which is a story in its own right,) with its first little-meow, we knew this cat was something else. Popping out it's little box, it's Devon Rex ears all in show, we struggled in the early days to figure out a name. Once the name was figured out, It couldn't have been more obvious. Mr.Spock... And just like that name sake - 2nd in command, our cat Mr.Spock was deftly intelligent and could take charge when he felt he needed to. Yet unlike its name sake - so completely human. A Heat Seaker, joy for him was warmth where ever he could find it, and so we gave it both in his own little heater, and all the love we could muster which would always be returned 100 %.
I struggle deeply at the moment to speak of those early days, so I will speak of Mr.Spocks later days.
While he would tend to himself from time to time, Mr.Spock all in all was a people person...er...cat. Loved being with people, dogs,... hated other cats. In short, Mr.Spock loved love. There are many things I shall miss, but of it all what I shall miss the most is this. When it was time for bed - Mr.Spock would protest in the little Purr-Meow that as far as I know only he did. So I'd get to bed, open my arms and say "Alright - Come on", and with a little skip he would jump into my arms. He often slept like a Childs teddy bear, his little head on my heart or shoulder. He snored sometimes. Always surreal.
In 2016 - as seemed the pattern of that year, Death tried to take him. Twice. A story in its own right. Heart medication become a thing the second time around, and he made a full recovery. Seeing a 14 year old cat be a kitten was truly lovely, but I knew that the clock was ticking. In these last few months, before sleeping for the night, I would look to this little one and say to my self - I will never have a cat like this ever again. Then I would imagine him passing, and give him the biggest hug I could, returned with an honest to God purr.
Last night around 1 AM EST, I saw something was off. Mr.Spock was breathing very heavy with a quick start and stop. I turned on his heater, and set him by for his comfort. At the 3 AM, I had to go to bed, and I said to him - Thank you Mr.Spock. I didn't know - but it felt like it would be likely. Best say what never needed to be said just in case. At 8 this morning, found him in another room - Cold. Expression that of what you may see with the stuffed figures in a museum.
November 28th, 2002 - May 20th, 2017
I took these yesterday, on the 19th and 17th respectively. They are the last living images.
Rest well Mr.Spock. If it is willing in the grasp of all reality, I hope to see you again my friend.
I miss you.
/hug
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::Onions:: I've lost my best friend.
Your Mr. Spock sounds like a truly exceptional kitty. It sucks to lose such a close companion. Sounds like he was a total badass.
Oh yes.
Your Mr. Spock sounds like a truly exceptional kitty. It sucks to lose such a close companion. Sounds like he was a total badass.
A fuzzy, hot water bottle warm, cuddly, precocious, care free, all around happy littl' total bad ass. These next few days and nights are going to just awful while I come to terms with this. Coming home - Nothing; No more hunger demands. Bed - Nothing; No more cuddle demands. Sleep in - Nothing; No more hunger demands to pull me out of bed (again - Cat. Meow).
Empty Sunshine. That's... that's the worst so far. ;_;
Not just to you, but to any one else reads this who has a furry friend, give 'em and extra hug for me.
Cus' this SUCKS. Ugh. Even if it is all necessary for progress.
<3 Thanks.
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Those are some big ears.
Your cat was special and so was your relationship. And he's actually a good looking cat for being the ugliest cat breed on the planet. I understand why you miss him so much.
You should totally go grab another cat though and start a new relationship with another animal! Then you can start new traditions like every time you wake up you hug him and he took a dump on your fucking bed again even though you just cleaned his litter and what the hell is he meowing about at 3 AM and ffs leave me alone while I'm trying to take a dump. Look, maybe you shouldn't get another cat. Let this good one happen and swear off cats for life.
Yes they are.
Your cat was special and so was your relationship. And he's actually a good looking cat for being the ugliest cat breed on the planet. I understand why you miss him so much.
I don't disagree. Conventional Devon Rex's are rather odd looking. The reason Mr.Spock was such a looker, was his show cat genes. If it wasn't for his front knock knees, he would have never been for sale and would have lived life as a show cat. I can't imagine he would have liked that much as he wasn't much for travel. Through it may be because travel meant the vet, and vet meant he needed to become the worlds softest velociraptor.
*High pitch* Rawr.
You should totally go grab another cat though and start a new relationship with another animal! Then you can start new traditions like every time you wake up you hug him and he took a dump on your fucking bed again even though you just cleaned his litter and what the hell is he meowing about at 3 AM and ffs leave me alone while I'm trying to take a dump. Look, maybe you shouldn't get another cat. Let this good one happen and swear off cats for life.
Heh. Well, you got a chuckle out of me, so thanks for that. Back in Summer of 2002, when the family was looking for a pet, the one thing I declared out loud was that I didn't want a cat. ABSOLUTELY NOT! As far as I am concerned we never did get a cat, even if it was a cat. His unique nature only doubles my grief among all the other factors that have me in my current stupor. 13 Hours ago I said thank you. 8 Hours ago I found him still and frozen in place. It already feels like eternity.
<3
We lost ours a couple of years ago - I still miss her. Kind thoughts to you!
::Onions:: I've lost my best friend.
That's rough. Rellekh and I just got a 50 lbs bundle of love a couple months ago. She is currently sitting at my feet trying to encourage me to go outside. We've barely gotten to know her but I can already sense the void that would be left in her absence. I'm always amazed at how much a pet can fill your life with joy. Your cat sounds awesome and I don't envy the sadness you must be feeling now. One day at a time. I think I'll go outside now.
Yea. Thanks Wu.
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It's a TRAP!
That's rough. Rellekh and I just got a 50 lbs bundle of love a couple months ago. She is currently sitting at my feet trying to encourage me to go outside. We've barely gotten to know her but I can already sense the void that would be left in her absence. I'm always amazed at how much a pet can fill your life with joy. Your cat sounds awesome and I don't envy the sadness you must be feeling now. One day at a time. I think I'll go outside now.
Word of advice - if it gets sick, just kill it. The only reason I am as I am now is because of last year. I selflessly swam through a sea of blood, shit, & piss (which I generally wouldn't do, something clicked in my head) to get the little fur ball better and succeeded. Twice. That's not to discount the shear will to live I saw on display, but there were times where thumbs become very handy (as they tend to be). Oh his paw is bleeding from the blood-thinner (first wave meds), and he needs to go to the bathroom. How do I tie up his paw with a bandage with only two hands, and make sure neither residue gets on the carpet. I know! Grab a rag, put it in your mouth, grab the furball by the scruff & tie the bandage. Success. One of many little adventures from last year. I didn't care, I just wanted him to get better, and damed be any thoughts of personal health.
Problem was, it changed the relation ship from fuzzy companion to fur-baby. From food guy, to guy who cares. He was smart enough to know all I did to get him better, and he made sure to show it in these last 5 months. ;_;
So spare yourself and if it gets sick, just kill it. I'm only being half serious. I don't know. What are words. What are emotions. Ugh.
::Onions:: I've lost my best friend.
I have been here. While the details are different, I know the story well.
Ours was a rescue, "forced" upon us by the wife of my mother's employer. "Oh, just let me bring him by and if you don't like him I'll take him back home!" He came with food, and within five minutes of being set loose in the house, had vanished and hidden behind a bookshelf. And that, was that.
In his past life, he was most assuredly a lawyer or a banker, for he'd become used to a certain lifestyle, and being a cat was not conducive to continuing said lifestyle. He was temperamental and proud. Meal times were carved in stone, and heaven help you if you passed through the kitchen and his food was not prepared. You'd be knocked over. Cats and coffee don't agree, so he settled for milk or half and half. Shrimp, bacon, and eggs were the pinnacle of fine dining. He knew when they were available and would glare until he got some. And just like a former human of his importance and lifestyle, he was quite rotund. This doesn't mean for a second he ever tried to be anything other than a looker. The grey and white fur was a perfect representation of the suit he died in. He had to be brushed daily, but pay extra attention to his head. He was cultured and had distinctive taste in music. If he enjoyed it, he'd saunter into the room, sprawl out and relax. If he hated it, he'd walk back out.
As with all cats, however, he was defective in all the best ways. Something long ago must have broken loose in his head, because I've never heard a louder, or more rattling, purr. Brushing his head too long would reward you with a droolfest. If he felt playful, he'd flop over, roll onto his back, and kick at his own chin. And the butt pats... Head to ground, butt in the air, purring, talking, and drooling.
What I will forever remember though, are his headbutts. If you were family and walked in the back door, he'd leap onto the dryer, cross the washing machine, and meow insistently in your face until you leaned down enough for him to headbutt you.
16 long years he stayed with us. Never the nicest cat. Never a lap kitty. But always a buddy. The last two took their toll in painful, visible ways. He dramatically lost all his weight. He'd seemingly have moments of confusion at times, forgetting where his litter box was, or unable to find people in the house. He'd have trouble keeping meals down.
The end was sudden. We took a weeklong vacation, and when we came home, he was lethargic and the thinnest we'd ever seen him. I think our departure threw him for a loop. Over the next week, he barely ate, he barely had the strength to move. It was painful to watch, and more painful still to make the decision to ease his passage. He went down swinging, ever the fighter, and got a good swipe at the vet.
Losing my Sam was devastating. I know the feelings well. It still hurts, but there's a happy ending I'm sure you'll one day find as well.
Less than a year later, my fiance sends me a series of text messages. There was a cat that was hanging around dispatch. He was very friendly. She sent pictures. He was adorable. Unfortunately, her boss had made the decision he had to "go". We didn't know what that meant, but it couldn't be good, so I told her to bring him home. And so in the middle of the night, she engineered his kidnapping.
Jasper is sitting beside me now. Jasper is almost never NOT sitting beside me. My wife may have rescued him, but he clings to me. He follows me everywhere. He's the perfect lap kitty. He's a clumsy fool. He's the single most vocal, talkative cat I've ever known. He's a ragdoll and his coat is the bushiest, silkiest, softest thing in the world, and I defy you to tell me otherwise.
I think Jasper knows I saved him, and that's why he sticks so closely to me. But I can never quite shake the feeling that Jasper is more than he appears. That maybe, just maybe, Sam came back as Jasper. And that maybe, just maybe, while he's pissed he came back, again, as a cat, he's overjoyed he found not just someone he knew in my wife, but he made his way back to his family.
This is a long winded way of saying, you'll never forget, but with time it'll get better.
Thank you for this.
Early on, Mr.Spock would also drool when he was happy. You would get a small pool in the process. As he aged he learned to show his joy with his tail and sound, not saliva. There was one recent exception to this. A few weeks ago I found the heavy bristle brush used on him in his youth. Thought it lost, but no... it seems it got under the couch some how, and was forgotten. Grabbed it and went to Mr.Spock, basking in the sun on his perch. "You remember this Mr Spock?" and brushed his head. Immediately his eyes lit up, and he rolled. I brushed him down, and the sounds he made when he wasn't drooling like a kitten can only translate as "This is liven'". He was so elated, I dare say in that moment he may have felt abit of nostalgia. For in that moment he was a kitten again. ;_;
I thank you for the story Phoenix_9286. :)
:(
Sorry for your loss man. I know how it feels. :(
Sending lots of love your way.
It's a TRAP!
I feel for you.
I lost the first dog I ever had (I got her when I was 12) about four years ago. I was stationed out in California for the Air Force, and she was at home in Missouri with my parents. Died in her sleep after a long and good life. I still miss her.
I also have a Shih Tzu that my family got when I was a teenager. He's creepy up on 16 years old now. He's mostly deaf, mostly blind, and sleeps about 20 hours a day. He's starting to have trouble moving around. I don't think it's going to be too much longer and he'll be gone. So far, he still seems like a really happy dog and he doesn't show any signs of being in pain, but I'm honestly not sure we'd be able to tell if he was, but I worry about him. Watching a pet get old is rough, and losing one is even worse. ):
Thank you.
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It's a TRAP!
I feel for you.
I lost the first dog I ever had (I got her when I was 12) about four years ago. I was stationed out in California for the Air Force, and she was at home in Missouri with my parents. Died in her sleep after a long and good life. I still miss her.
I also have a Shih Tzu that my family got when I was a teenager. He's creeping up on 16 years old now. He's mostly deaf, mostly blind, and sleeps about 20 hours a day. He's starting to have trouble moving around. I don't think it's going to be too much longer and he'll be gone. So far, he still seems like a really happy dog and he doesn't show any signs of being in pain, but I'm honestly not sure we'd be able to tell if he was, but I worry about him. Watching a pet get old is rough, and losing one is even worse. ):
Yea. I'm flippen devastated. There is a part of me now that is saying, "lets just move". My home feels dead to me right now, among other things. Everywhere I look there is a happy memory, then I become instantly sad as I know there will be no more a memory to make. That said, the reason I didn't set off alarm bells like I did in the past, is of exactly what you have described with your dog. That's no way to live. For my cat, he was already on medication so the only direction to go was more medication. On top of that, even through he did make a full recovery from the his two ordeals, they did take their toll on his body. When he breathed you could see his rib cage, and even through we increased the rate we gave him food, from three servings from two, he stayed that way. Still a very happy cat, and OH SNAP more food is awesome, but his body took it's toll. If he had survived the night, I presume he would have only gotten weaker. Indeed, so weak that he labored for breath. That is no way to live.
So even through he was breathing so heavy that I made note, I left it to the powers that be. Live or Die. I have no regrets, and I am 100% on my decision; that I made the right choice. I made the choice because I loved the little fur ball so much ;_;. Yet, no good deed goes unpunished.
It's too quiet now, even with music on. It's so obvious that there is so much we don't know. My home, feels so empty now. ;;_;;
Alright Mods. Lock Requested.
Alt Title: The Cat Drug
It was a cold night. The first one in many years time. Too quiet. There was no other heart beat, nor breath, nor the warmth of my friend. ;_; If It wasn't for exhaustion from my deep sadness, I might not have slept at all.
Life (or something of it) is cruel, through not due to any purpose in cruelty. It's all just a side effect of being a work in progress, or at least as far as I can tell anyway. Be that as it may, it seems a little comfort at the entropy my heart has seemingly experienced in the last 27 and 1 half hours. I've realized in these 27 and 1 half hours since my thoughts of possibility became cold-hard-truth, that my hearts angst has been fueled by memory of how it was even 51 and 1 half hours ago when all was well and happy. When I did not know "today" would be the last day. I feel very much as is described from someone coming cold turkey clean from an addiction of an opiate or nicotine. I'm quite suddenly relearning to live again without. How to walk, talk, eat breakfast, and move 'bout in the daily activity without the added benefit of company Mr.Spock provided by just being alive and happy. The routine of feeding him, and his symphony of sound he would make in till I placed food into his reach. The little sound he would make every time I turned on his heater for him, which I always interpreted as, "Thank you"; or even when he would jump to my bed and I would turn him into a cat burrito with the top sheet. I could do as needed for this cat as I saw fit, and Mr. Spock would just roll with it best he could. Rarely if ever made much of a fuss - Just - Ok I guess this is my life now. Lill' fur ball. ;_;
It seems an odd paradox. I'm overjoyed to cherish these memories made, yet it is these memories that are bringing such despair. I'm remembering my last hit of simple effortless joy, and I want another hit. There is no more. There is no more. There is no more. ;_; That chapter is done.
That's not to say there will never again be more, as there will be very likely be more in some form. Such an idea feels so distant right now, through - when I can feel anything at all. At this point I *think* the edge is gone, and now all I have is the raw blunt of sadness. While more in metaphor, I think I'm able to taste again, so there is progress being made in this noggin of mine.
I have never before experienced such an intensity of raw sadness like this. It's not only in my eyes, but my throat, my heart, and my hands. And it's not like I've never experienced death before, I've both seen and known of it more times than I would like to recognize. I've been the strength in the room, the one person who didn't cry just so that others could do so on my shoulder with a hug, and I've also left the room, as I couldn't take watching the slow twitchy phase of the body dying. Yet for these moments, those people who have passed don't really feel dead to me, as they and their lessons are a part of me. As long as I live they are not yet dead, just in a smaller amount in another form.
With Mr.Spock through, it seems at this moment all I have is the aforementioned memory, and I think that makes it worse. That's not to say I never learned anything through experience thanks to the littl' fur ball, shoot, even this here is something to learn from. Yet it feels more like external skills learned, instead of a part of my cat now being part of me. I'll see if that changes with time through. I hope so, I need to make something out of this madness so I can fill the hole that has been left in my heart.;;;_;;;
So, as the title says (Alright Mods. Lock Requested.), I've requested this locked. I've got to keep some of my guts in me after all, if I am to move forward, and ya'll have done enough as it is. This LONG hull - which I expect will be the rest of my life right now with how I feel, is my weight to carry now. I either get stronger with it - or I die, and I ain't dien' yet if I can have may say about it.
With all that said, and this post to be locked, I thank you DBO for letting me share with you something so Un-Destiny related. Something so pure. Sharing with you my cat-who-was-never-a-cat who sheared way his failing mortal coil. If I'm weirder than usual, or whatever - well - you'll know why. If you still want to send a message do it through Xbox Live. If you are Playstation, well - I guess you will have to find someone who is on Xbox here at DBO and have them relay it I suppose.
I'll be around, I guess.
Thanks All <3