Well, it seems that I posted too soon about making it through August this year. September is not starting out at all well.
I’ll spare you the plumbing problems and the rest.
This evening, my cat Furby left us. She was only twelve. The last of a litter of kittens that were born feral behind my garage and grew up to be anything but feral. Furby is the reason I found the litter at all. I was out at the potting bench and caught movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a little gray and white kitten, out exploring her world for the first time. She ran back to her littermates when I turned, which of course led me right to them. And to an adventure in taming wild kittens. (Bring them food when their mother starts trying to wean them and they’ll follow you anywhere.)
They were not, alas, long-lived. Peso died four years ago of kidney failure. Buttons followed later the same year. He had been diagnosed with IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) and while on prednisone for that, developed an infection that turned into septisemia. We tried every antibiotic in the vet’s pharmacy, singly and in combination, but nothing helped. Beautiful Libby got a cancer that ate away her nose a year later. Then Inky. And now Furby. I suspect that a vaccination (one that’s no longer recommended) messed up their immune systems.
Furby was always a sweetheart and a very laid-back cat. She was never a lap cat, which, at eighteen pounds, was probably a good thing. Peso would sit on the arm of my chair and sort of ooze into my lap. Furby was not a great cuddler, but she loved attention and to be petted and fussed over. She made it her job to hold down the covers on the bed every night, so that I had to move her to get up (thus encouraging me to be lazy and stay in bed a little longer).
Easy-going most of the time, she was still the empress of all she surveyed. That was a constant source of frustration for Libby, who badly wanted to be queen. When Widget (a kitten who was abandoned at four days old) joined the family, she was the only one who would play with him, lashing her tail for him to chase. Of course, Widget pushed it too far. (He’s a stubborn little shit.) Until one day Furby in exasperation bounced his head off the kitchen floor like she was dribbling a basketball. Widget’s persistent, but he’s not dumb. He was more respectful after that.
Furby snuggled up in bed with me last night and stayed on the bed all day. She died there about 7:00 pm.
RIP Furby love. So sorry I couldn’t do more for you.
I’m so terribly sorry. Being a cat lady myself (we have four and have lost two in recent years), I understand the heartache that comes with saying goodbye, especially when they were still too young.
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Thanks.
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Aww. It’s amazing how attached we get to the fur beasts (I lost my 18 yo one a few years ago, and only this last year have we gotten two new baby cats). Sorry!
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That story is too cute! I can just picture the little kitty going out for his adventures and accidentally finding a new home. I’m glad he found you! I’m sorry that their family is gone now.
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Thanks both of you. Furby was one of a kind, but then you can say that about any cat.
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Sorry to hear about your cats. I have two of my own so know how much they can mean to the family.
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Thanks. At one time, I had eight–which is really too many. Down to just Widget, now.
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Meredith, So sorry about Furby. I’m allergic to cats, but that didn’t stop one from adopting us years ago. She’s been gone many years now, but I still miss her.
BTW, I’m a fellow campaigner dropping by to say hello. Hope your month of September improves.
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Thank you.
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Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss. Furby obviously was a beauty. Twelve certainly isn’t old for a cat that lives a sheltered life, but it seems it is quite a lot for one that was born wild.
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Thanks. It’s true, she wouldn’t have lived half as long as a feral cat. Still . . .
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I’m so sorry for your loss.
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I’m so sorry for your loss. And not just for little Furby, but for all of them. It’s so sad. I had to give my cat to my mother because my future mother-in-law is allergic (or so she claims. I think she just hates animals. People too.). I miss her so much, but at least I get to see her once in a while.
Rest in peace, little Furby.
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So sorry, Daina. Apparently your comments got stuck in the spam filter for some reason.
Thank you.
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