So someone remembers her...
Gilladian
Adventurer
I have a two year old stray rescue in my lap right now. Simon is a beautiful boy, and I love him dearly... he has had ringworm, a seizure (we think from biting an electrical cord), and has severe allergies. His "older brother" Roland is now 16 going on 17 and has severe arthritis. Sweety-pie has a permanently damaged achilles tendon from a dog attack, and had so many kittens during her homeless days that her ribcage is permanently "sprung"... and Ivan the idiot is just himself. All are rescues... and that doesn't count the feral colony that lives in the garage.
My heart breaks every time a cat dies, but you gave Moxie such love and care; she adored you, plainly, and would want you to take on another cat in her place, when your heart is ready.
Anyone who rescues an animal is a hero.
My heart breaks every time a cat dies, but you gave Moxie such love and care; she adored you, plainly, and would want you to take on another cat in her place, when your heart is ready.
Anyone who rescues an animal is a hero.
billd91
Not your screen monkey (he/him)
They sure do. I'll be taking Moxie on his last trip to the vet tomorrow morning and I'm not looking forward to it. We did the same for our other cat, Puck, a year ago when his liver failed. My kids are pretty emo about it. They've known these cats all their lives and now, in the space of a year, they'll both be gone.
We just end up having to recognize that they won't usually live as long as us (unless they're pet tortoises) and that, while we're together, we make each others' lives better. And that's a fine thing. I'm sure that your Moxie's quality of life would have been terrible without your help, and though her life was short, it was so much better than it would have been.
thatdarncat
Overlord of Chat
I'm sorry Umbran 
Damn, man. That's sad. I feel for you and your wife.
I had a cat. Freeway was her name. This was years ago. A very uncharacteristic move by my father at the time saw him spotting a small kitten on the inside median of the freeway, going to work one day. My dad exited the freeway, took the long circle around during the morning rush traffic to the previous free way ramp, re-entered the freeway, got over to the left during the thick morning traffic, and stopped in the median to pick up the kitten that was, thankfully, still there. And, all this knowing that he'd be late for work.
He was afraid that he would scare the kitten, and it would run out into the traffic, but it didn't move. It had given up. We never figured out how the kitten got there, but the poor thing was dehydrated and starved so much that it couldn't move.
My dad brought it home to my mom, and she nursed it back to health.
And Freeway became the family pet.
She's a great cat. A lover. You can hear her purring from a mile away. She loves to just lay on you--she's always got to be in contact with one of us.
Well, flash forward ten years. I'm out of the house, through with college, working out in the "real world", living on my own. My mom dies. Sudden heart attack. And, Freeway becomes mine.
I keep Freeway for another seven years--17 years, that's a good run for a cat, especially one that should have died. In that time, I also find my buddy, Oscar the dog. Oscar was a stray that showed up in my yard one day, and for whatever reason, also found his way into my heart. Great dog. But the vet said that he's got cancer. Well, we beat that. Then, the vet said that he's got heart worms. Yes, we beat that, that too. Oscar and I bond like I've never bonded with an animal. He's the most expensive free dog I've ever had. 60 lbs, part Chow, part Lab, he thinks he's a lap dog. And, at first, Freeway was a little jealous.
But, Oscar loved Freeway just as much as I did. You should have seen these two: The old cat and the young dog. Oscar would lay down on his back, paws up in the air, and Freeway would climb on his chest, kneading with her paws, making biscuits, preparing her bed, then lay down on them. The dog and cat would sleep together.
One time, the fence was left open by the guys doing the yard work, and a stray dog ventured into the backyard, going after Freeway. Oscar came around the corner and jumped between Freeway and the intruder. No lie. The other dog high-tailed out out of the yard as fast as it could move, and Freeway came back down off her tree, directly behind Oscar--her protector.
Oscar and Freeway would actually play in the backyard (when Freeway wanted to--in her old age, Freeway didn't feel like playing much). When this happened, Oscar would bark and jump around like he was going to get Freeway, and the cat would just go flat--not run, as you would expect. She'd just go flat, like she was trying to disappear into the ground. Oscar would run up on her and then...start to lick her. He'd clean her entire back, then Freeway would slump to her side so that Oscar could finish the job on her sides. When she'd had enough, she'd give old Oscar a whack in the nose with her paw. He didn't seem to mind. I never saw him snap at her, even the time that her claw caught his nose and made it bleed.
A couple of years ago, there was a knock on my door. It was my neighbor. "Hey, there's some dogs attacking your cat in your front yard!"
I try to keep my animals in doors. Oscar loves it inside, but not Freeway. My mom always used to let her spend hours outside. She would disappear for an entire day. My mom would worry, and about dinner time, Freeway would show up.
After Freeway became mine, I tried to make sure that she stayed inside all the time. Unlike a dog, once a cat gets out in the back yard, the fence isn't going to keep her in. Freeway got to where, if you opened the door, she'd bolt, like lightning, past you. She needed to be outside sometime--she'd spent too much of her life out there.
I went out side, and I saw this person putting his two dogs in a car. He sped off as I came out. There, in the grass of my front yard lay Freeway. In her old age, she wouldn't stray from the house when she got outside. She'd stay in the front or back yard. This day, she was in the front yard when the dude walking his two pit bulls with no leash. They had ran into my yard after Freeway, and like she does with Oscar, she didn't run. She just went flat.
And the dogs tore her up.
Freeway was still alive when I got to her. God, I was furious. I wrapped her in a towl and rushed her to the Animal Emergency Hosptial. The vet saw her right away, but it was really too late for Freeway. Bones were crushed. Skin ripped open. Freeway was in this glass tube--it's the way that they feed oxygen to animals since the animal can't wear a mask. I'll never forget Freeway, upon seeing me, use her one good paw to drag her battered body to the wall of the glass and slump against it--trying to get into my lap where she would feel safe.
I had to put Freeway down that night. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Not because she had been my trusted and loved companion for seven years, but also because she was my mom's cat--something my mom had loved.
When I got back to house, my neighbor showed back up. She had the head to get the year, make, and license plate of the car with the pit bulls. I called the cops, and at 3:00 am that morning, the police went to that person's house and made them pay me damages (bascially--my emergency vet bill) for Freeway. Of course, my cat was still gone. You can't replace a great cat like that--the relationship she had with Oscar--the memories she brought me of my mom.
So, brother, I'm here to tell you that I really do understand what you're going through.
And, my heart goes out to you.
All I can say is: Don't let that experience with Moxie deter you away from taking in strays and rescue animals. I figure that the animals people pay for--the pure breeds and such--have a much better chance of finding a loving home than those poor animails on the street. Moxie II might just be that cat you see digging in the garbage at that local Chinese Food restaurant that you like to frequent. Give her some love.
WB.
No fear of that, I'm happy to say. My wife is a veterinarian - getting basket cases or strays is an occupational hazard for her.
We're sad, sure. But we also know there will be other pets, and either we'll go to a shelter or one will fall in our lap. Maybe not this instant, but not all that long, either.
You know what they say. Want a cat? Put some food on your doorstep. You'll have one in the morning!
Well, in suburbia, it may be someone else's cat, but yes.
We aren't actively seeking another cat quite yet. However, we've agreed that we are going "without protection", so to speak. If a cat or kitten just happens, well, then it happens
billd91
Not your screen monkey (he/him)
Eh, we end up with raccoons. There's a colony of them living on and off in the storm sewers across the street. I found 3 of them on my front porch one night...
Similar Threads
