So The Kid and Feather Grew Old...

They were such good buds. But Feather had lived a bit of hard life and after lying on the sofa for a couple of years she finally was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. I still cry thinking of my boyfriend (OH! I forgot to mention that after the break up, I got custody of the furry children and moved from Colorado to Arizona....but this is history so the details are brief) asking the vet to "Save her!" and the look on poor Feather's face as she went off to the cold cages in the vet's office where she died that night.

Now I had The Kid (or Kiddie as we called him) and he seemed very lost. Not the best of cat parents we got another rescue.

Her name was Mollie but she was really a feral cat with a mellow attitude. When we brought her home, The Kid made a low growlish noise and backed away to hide. Because he was an old man at the time, we tended to favor him and ignore her. She also had a rather nasty smell about her.

When I had a yard she stayed there a lot. I didn't want The Kid getting any diseases so she had a little cool house and when I moved into my apartment she was out and The Kid was in. Although we have since learned, we had her declawed. We didn't want her in trouble, but seriously, she was catching birds right and left! So we got her a bell and a tag. She morphed first into Stink. Then when she was all outdoors to Stinkerbell!

She was way too normal for me. All appendages were there. All mental function was proper. It was kind of hard.

Kiddie was about 18 when the lump on his head (I knew it was a tumor. He had one on his lip a year or so earlier and it was very hard for him to recover. I swore he would never suffer like Feather had) caused him to start backing up. Just standing still, he would back up and act like something was on his face.

I had a new boyfriend and Kid had a bad habit of missing the tub when he jumped in for a lick of a leaking tap! My beau thought it may have been one of the midnight KERLUNKS that did it, but I knew.

The vet tried to remove it but confirmed it was cancer and would be back.

Before I left on a trip, I was freaking out that he would suffer and I didn't know when to intervene. My vet was so wise: "Why should he HAVE to suffer? It is going to be time, let it be."

I held his paw and stroked and loved him listening to his loud half fear, half trusting purr go silent.

I miss him and his yellow eyes that never knew what to look at, his somber teddy bear features and the way he would sleep on my face. But I remind myself that if he had been smart enough to make it through kindergarten, he would have lived long enough to graduate HIGH SCHOOL!!!

IN THE BEGINNING....

I had allergies!

I was never into cats, because I sneezed. I had a roommate with a very in and outdoor cat that used to find the KFC bones and throw up all over the house. She found romance and left me with all the rent.

I found another roommate who had the amazing Feather.

Feather was a tripod cat. She had lived in the wild and came home one day one leg too few!

My roommate and I became a "number" and as a couple we were given another cat.

HE was the first Kid.

We never really named him. He was 6 weeks old, runny eyes and pretty sickly. We didn't want to get too attached. There was obviously a few thing wrong with him. My girl friend was going to vet paramedic school and said it needed a home. She gave his sister to her brother. The twin sister black cat went mad, attacked the children and had to be put down... but The Kid....

He did have brain damage. I looked it up recently and he had all the symptoms of some very severe issues. He tended to miss the door when he ran out. He walked funny... ask anyone! He purred happily and constantly. He was a little Down Syndrome kid. He was all love, pure sweet and never exactly connected. He used to get excited and forget to pull in his claws and stick to the carpet! I didn't own a tv for two years. Didn't need it with The Kid.

When we brought him in, Feather would have nothing to do with us. She was elegant and very self aware (for a three legged cat.) She would roll on her back on your lap and fall off on occasion - which she OBVIOUSLY meant to do, as she would lick a bit and move on as if NOTHING unusual had happened.

She protested and boycotted until one day, the noisy, cheerful little oozy eyed independent 7 week old was trying to play. Feather looked out of the side of her eyes. Her ears flattened and she thought.... then a big paw landed on him and she began to groom him! The ooze and mess of him was more than her pristine presence could stand.

They were eternal buddies after that.

This is a little story about my cat.....

The background is my first portrait of him.

The DUDE (whose real name is Kid Jr.) is a middle aged black cat who has been my studio companion for the last 13 some years! What a great age for a black cat, eh?

Just under two years ago, he got a nasty diagnosis. He has a tumor on his thyroid. He makes too much of the stuff a thyroid makes so that is Hyperthyroidism. I am giving him a dose of his meds every morning and every night and he is a bit skinnier than he has been, but still his aloof yet demanding independent self. This will allow him to live with the thing in his neck, but it doesn't cure him.

The Dude abides.