I lost my beloved Tybalt-cat Friday morning after a short but intense bout of Hepatic Lipidosis (Fatty Liver Disease). He was only six years old, and I am still beating myself up for not noticing something was wrong with him sooner than I did. I'm going crazy with missing him.
The way he'd come running every morning as soon as he heard me stirring. How he'd sit next to my head and look plaintively at me if I tried to sleep in. How he'd bat at my hand as I filled his food bowl. The way he'd delicately dip his paw in his water bowl and then lick it dry. His preference for the water he found in people-glasses. Lounging on the couch with him in my lap, or being lulled to sleep by his snortling next to me on the bed. The way he'd jump into my lap as soon as I sat down at the computer. The way he'd attack the CD tray or the printer every time they showed some sign of life. All of his different meows. How much he loved the laces of my Docs. How he liked to carry coins around the house in his mouth. How he hunted spiders and scraps of paper mercilessly, and how he even got the occasional bird that haplessly found itself in the house. How he chewed the bath stopper to bits. The time he stole my gold ring from off the table next to me and I didn't even notice. How he would sit on my chest when I was on the phone with Bri and purr so loud I could barely hear. How he would always meet me at the door when I came home, meering and then flopping so I could rub his belly. His magnificent tail and his soft soft fur. His one grey whisker. The corkscrew whisker he had when he was a kitten. His harp seal impression. His circus bear impression. His snortles and wheezes. The way he'd fling his toys at me when he wanted my attention. Lapping up leftover milk from my cereal bowl. His encounter with the Kitty in the Mirror. Curled up black fur against the white chair. His swishy walk. His green saucer eyes. The sheer size of him. The way he would run and jump onto my bed when I closed my blinds. The way he would hide behind the front door when it was open to watch what was going on outside the screen door. How he learned to stand his ground against the neighborhood cats on the other side of the screen door. Snoring in his cat bed that used to be his brother's cat bed. The way he let only a few people get close to him. The way he looked in kitty loaf position on a fluffy pillow. How he would emerge from hiding after a salon the very second the last person left. Sitting on top of his scratching post. Sleeping like a dragon in front of the furnace. Trying to make himself flat to get under my dresser. The way he would follow me around the house. The time he snuck into the apartment next door through the hole in the wall while the bathroom was being redone. Supercat pose. The tufts of fur between his toes that made him look like he was ready to stalk across the icy tundra. Lolling in a sunbeam on a weekend morning. Letting me give him a big hug every morning before I left for work.
I had no idea my time with him would be over this soon.
Goodbye Tyb. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. You were a good cat.
Posted by nightfall at January 12, 2004 04:58 PM