jtr1962
Storage? I am Storage!
As some of you may have noticed, I haven't posted here or on SR in the last 2+ weeks. This has been due to first the illness and then the death of my cat, Tiger. I recently wrote something about her life that I wish to share with everyone here. Also, if anyone has some space on their site that I can borrow, I have some pictures of her that I can post in this thread. Just PM with the URL to upload them to. I'll reduce them in size to 600x800 before posting them.
Here's her story:
I'm writing this so I can help others remember the life of my beloved cat Tiger. Tiger came to me in June of 1987 along with Lucky, her sister. They were both found on a neighbor's lawn apparently abandoned by their mother. We took them both in and took care of them. Since we had another cat at the time, Tabitha, we weren't planning to keep them, but were going to bring them to North Shore, an animal shelter where animals are never killed if they can't find a home. One thing led to another, and we never did bring them in. Once a few months passed, we were too attached to them to even think about it.
As they both grew, their personalities emerged. Lucky, a nice cat in her own right, turned out to be rather sedentary and got heavy, while Tiger was just the opposite. She was very playful, and so small she looked like no more than six months old her whole life. Although my life was busy at the time, I always enjoyed playing with her whenever I could find the time. She loved to chase an acorn of a certain size, jumped everywhere, and was curious about everything. She seemed to enjoy my company, and I enjoyed hers. Besides playing, she would come on my lap every time I watched television, and sometimes we would both fall asleep. In late 1988 my sister moved out and a few months later I had her room. It was then that I began to take Tiger to sleep with me nearly every night, and we became closer than before. She would become totally relaxed and remain with me all night, and was especially fond of sleeping on my legs, sometimes stretched out totally at ease.
In September 1990 I was laid off from my job, and worked at home from that time on. Once I was home all the time, Tiger and I became nearly inseparable. She would spend her nights and much of her day in my bedroom. I would hold her or play with her whenever the mood suited both of us. Over time I knew the bond between us was special, perhaps a once in a lifetime thing that would never occur again. This surprised me since over time I had become bitter at the world and never thought I could love anything again, yet I couldn't help but feel that way about Tiger. She had so many qualities that were endearing to me in both her personality and physical appearance. We picked up on each other's moods, comforted each other when times where bad, enjoyed each other when times were good. We shared time, space, food, amd emotions. It took me a while but I eventually realized how lucky we were to have found each other in this world, and I began to treasure every moment with her. I even learned to accept and enjoy some of her traits which would ordinarily be annoying, such as begging for food, because she was such a gentle creature.
Years passed in this way. Life had its usual ups and downs, and unfortunately for me there were more downs than ups. My home business was never really successful, my personal life was pretty much a mess, and it seemed the whole world was heading in the wrong direction. Through all this Tiger and I were somehow able to continue to comfort each other. She had her moods as well, although most of the time she was content to take whatever time I could give her. Despite what happened in my life, I always treated Tiger the same, and she was always there for me. We each seemed to instinctively know exactly what the other wanted, and there existed between us a cameraderie that rarely exists among humans.
It wasn't until 1998 that it even occurred to me that we might not be together forever. It was then that Tiger started showing no more interest in things, and began to lose her appetite. At first I thought she just might have a cold or fever, as had happened one or two times before. However, when she continued to grow weaker, I figured this was serious so we bought her to Dr. Kirk, her vet. A blood test revealed she had an overactive thyroid and needed to be put on medication. By then her appetite was nonexistent, and it was impossible to find a way to give her the medication. Some things worked for a while, but eventually she lost the taste for whatever food the pill was put in. After much trial and error, it turned out that putting the pill in a small piece of cheese worked, so we stuck with it. The next month involved feeding her baby food since she wouldn't eat any kind of cat food. I didn't realize how close she had been to death. If we had waited even another week, we may not have been able to bring her back. Within about a month she started to return to her old self, and I started to cherish every day with her from that time onwards, realizing that even if I was lucky, I probably wouldn't have more than perhaps another ten years with her.
Later that year we lost Tabitha, whom Tiger had been close to. Tiger started to show some of the same symptoms as before, although she continued to eat and take her medication. This time there didn't appear to be anything physically wrong with her, so I knew that she was missing her old friend. The next month I spent as much time as I could comforting her and letting her know she was loved. As before, she eventually returned to her old self, except that she seemed to be grateful to me for what I had done, and showed her gratitude with extra affection. I would say from that point onwards we were as close as it is possible for two beings to be. The years passed, and Tiger was always one of the few bright spots in my life that I knew I could count on, and I hope the reverse was true for her as well. We continued to have an uncanny ability to sense each other's physical and emotional needs, and we both adjusted our lives to accommodate each other. Just as I had helped her cope with Tabitha's passing, she helped me cope with the deep depression that lasted for six months after the events of September 11, 2001. Her ability to pick up my moods was amazing, and she gave everything she had to help me feel better, which eventually I did.
Starting this spring, I began to take Tiger outside nearly every day. She had always been an indoor cat, but I figured she would enjoy a change of scenery. I had taken her out before, but not with any regularity. She would soon look forward to the little trips where I would carry her around outside, and seemed eager to go out almost every time I did. The spring and most of the summer were wonderful. I was finally starting to get over 9/11, and I was showing my gratitude to Tiger for helping me get through it by spending extra time with her.
It was by midsummer that I noticed Tiger was slowing down. At first I attributed this to the heat, which had made me feel lethargic as well. Nothing seemed physically wrong with her, so I also thought possibly her age was finally catching up with her. Suzette, our Persian cat, had lost her ability to jump nearly two years ago, and she was just a few months older than Tiger. I figured it was certainly plausible that Tiger would finally slow down a bit at over fifteen years old. I had also noticed that the area under her throat felt strange, but attributed that to bones being more noticeable due to a weight loss. In any case, I made an extra effort to get Tiger to eat. She had always been thin, and certainly could not afford a weight loss. While she didn't lose much more weight, she continued to grow weaker. As soon as she started struggling to jump on my bed, I knew it was more than something age or heat related. A few weeks earlier, she was able to jump to twice this height with ease, and age related slowdowns never occur this suddenly. On September 24 we bought her to the vet.
Dr. Kirk initially found nothing terribly unusual until he decided to do a blood test. It was then that he noticed the strange lumps on her neck and mentioned the word tumor. The very word nearly caused me to faint, but at first the doctor prescribed antibiotics and medication to strengthen her heart and liver. He was thinking that the lumps might be infection related, and hoped the medication would bring them down. A severe tartar buildup which he removed led me to think that her problems might be related to tooth or gum infection, which would certainly be curable.
For over a week we continued to give Tiger her various medications, and build her strength. She seemed to enjoy food more than before since she could chew better. Later in the week she began choking occasionally while eating, and was having some trouble breathing. The lumps were not getting smaller, either. We bought her back to Dr. Kirk on October 2 for a closer examination of the lumps.
The fact that the lumps had not shrunk, and the presence of a smaller third one suggested a definite possibility of cancer. Tiger was too weak at that point to even consider operating on, and due to her heart and liver problems was not a good candidate for long term survival even if she survived the operation. Despite the apparent hopelessness of the situation, I was unable to bring myself to leave her. Although she was weak and had occasional difficulty swallowing, she was completely aware of everthing going on around her, and was not in any apparent pain. It just seemed to be too clinical of a setting for her last breath. After everything she had done for me, I wasn't ready to give up on her. Dr. Kirk gave her an injection to reduce the inflammation so that she could breath easier. I had hoped to be able to build up her strength enough to consider surgery for the growths. I was fully prepared to give up every cent I had if it would have cured her. The thought of life without her was unbearable to me, and something I was totally unprepared for.
After we got her home she seemed to start breathing better after an hour or so. I spent all afternoon lying with her. I gave her dinner a bit at a time, letting her swallow and rest so that she wouldn't start choking. Giving her a small amount of water occasionally seemed to help the inflammation. After dinner I lied down with her again for a few hours, and around 9 bought her into the living room to be with my mother. It was her habit to watch TV with my mother from about 8 until I took her to bed with me. While she was in the living room I finished a few things on the computer and completed a few chores. At 3:17 AM I shut off the computer, took a shower, and took Tiger to bed with me.
That night together was beautiful and something I'll treasure for the rest of my life. She was breathing almost normally, except for a few slight gasps for air that quickly passed as she cleared her throat. She slept on me in all the usual places, including next to my head. It was like old times. She seemed totally at peace. I told her that I loved her, that I always did and always will. She never needed to tell me how she felt. It was obvious to me how much she had cared about me all her life. We looked into each other's eyes several times that night, and nothing more needed to be said between us. Several times during the last two weeks I had broken down and cried thinking about the unthinkable, but never when she was awake. Yet somehow she knew what I was thinking, and her look told me that if she had to go, it would only be for a while. Somehow, somewhere we would be together again, as we were meant to be.
Early that morning she awoke and looked at the birds outside, as was her habit after waking up. We both drifted off again. The next time I awoke, she was lying next to my arm, and my mother was getting her breakfast ready. That night had made me hope that we could get enough food into her to make her strong enough to be operated on. I was hoping perhaps the growths wouldn't be cancerous, or if they were, that they could be successfully removed. As before, we fed her a bit at a time, letting her catch her breath in between bites. I gave her a bit of water, and let her rest. She would usually gasp for a minute, and then I would let her take a few more bites. I gave her one of her medications, and let her rest a minute before trying some more food. She took a few bites, and I pulled the dish away so she could rest. Shortly before 10 AM, she started gasping for air again, and I figured this would pass in a moment. However, the gasping became worse and worse. I tried holding her upside down to clear everything. I even tried using the eyedropper to clear away the inflammation. Nothing was working, and I felt her slipping away. As a last resort I tried mouth-to-mouth recussitation, but to no avail. She became limp in my arms, and I knew she was gone. Afterwards, I held her on my bed for a little while longer. As I write this my heart is broken and I know something precious in this world was lost to me. I hope that someday we'll be together again.
Here's her story:
I'm writing this so I can help others remember the life of my beloved cat Tiger. Tiger came to me in June of 1987 along with Lucky, her sister. They were both found on a neighbor's lawn apparently abandoned by their mother. We took them both in and took care of them. Since we had another cat at the time, Tabitha, we weren't planning to keep them, but were going to bring them to North Shore, an animal shelter where animals are never killed if they can't find a home. One thing led to another, and we never did bring them in. Once a few months passed, we were too attached to them to even think about it.
As they both grew, their personalities emerged. Lucky, a nice cat in her own right, turned out to be rather sedentary and got heavy, while Tiger was just the opposite. She was very playful, and so small she looked like no more than six months old her whole life. Although my life was busy at the time, I always enjoyed playing with her whenever I could find the time. She loved to chase an acorn of a certain size, jumped everywhere, and was curious about everything. She seemed to enjoy my company, and I enjoyed hers. Besides playing, she would come on my lap every time I watched television, and sometimes we would both fall asleep. In late 1988 my sister moved out and a few months later I had her room. It was then that I began to take Tiger to sleep with me nearly every night, and we became closer than before. She would become totally relaxed and remain with me all night, and was especially fond of sleeping on my legs, sometimes stretched out totally at ease.
In September 1990 I was laid off from my job, and worked at home from that time on. Once I was home all the time, Tiger and I became nearly inseparable. She would spend her nights and much of her day in my bedroom. I would hold her or play with her whenever the mood suited both of us. Over time I knew the bond between us was special, perhaps a once in a lifetime thing that would never occur again. This surprised me since over time I had become bitter at the world and never thought I could love anything again, yet I couldn't help but feel that way about Tiger. She had so many qualities that were endearing to me in both her personality and physical appearance. We picked up on each other's moods, comforted each other when times where bad, enjoyed each other when times were good. We shared time, space, food, amd emotions. It took me a while but I eventually realized how lucky we were to have found each other in this world, and I began to treasure every moment with her. I even learned to accept and enjoy some of her traits which would ordinarily be annoying, such as begging for food, because she was such a gentle creature.
Years passed in this way. Life had its usual ups and downs, and unfortunately for me there were more downs than ups. My home business was never really successful, my personal life was pretty much a mess, and it seemed the whole world was heading in the wrong direction. Through all this Tiger and I were somehow able to continue to comfort each other. She had her moods as well, although most of the time she was content to take whatever time I could give her. Despite what happened in my life, I always treated Tiger the same, and she was always there for me. We each seemed to instinctively know exactly what the other wanted, and there existed between us a cameraderie that rarely exists among humans.
It wasn't until 1998 that it even occurred to me that we might not be together forever. It was then that Tiger started showing no more interest in things, and began to lose her appetite. At first I thought she just might have a cold or fever, as had happened one or two times before. However, when she continued to grow weaker, I figured this was serious so we bought her to Dr. Kirk, her vet. A blood test revealed she had an overactive thyroid and needed to be put on medication. By then her appetite was nonexistent, and it was impossible to find a way to give her the medication. Some things worked for a while, but eventually she lost the taste for whatever food the pill was put in. After much trial and error, it turned out that putting the pill in a small piece of cheese worked, so we stuck with it. The next month involved feeding her baby food since she wouldn't eat any kind of cat food. I didn't realize how close she had been to death. If we had waited even another week, we may not have been able to bring her back. Within about a month she started to return to her old self, and I started to cherish every day with her from that time onwards, realizing that even if I was lucky, I probably wouldn't have more than perhaps another ten years with her.
Later that year we lost Tabitha, whom Tiger had been close to. Tiger started to show some of the same symptoms as before, although she continued to eat and take her medication. This time there didn't appear to be anything physically wrong with her, so I knew that she was missing her old friend. The next month I spent as much time as I could comforting her and letting her know she was loved. As before, she eventually returned to her old self, except that she seemed to be grateful to me for what I had done, and showed her gratitude with extra affection. I would say from that point onwards we were as close as it is possible for two beings to be. The years passed, and Tiger was always one of the few bright spots in my life that I knew I could count on, and I hope the reverse was true for her as well. We continued to have an uncanny ability to sense each other's physical and emotional needs, and we both adjusted our lives to accommodate each other. Just as I had helped her cope with Tabitha's passing, she helped me cope with the deep depression that lasted for six months after the events of September 11, 2001. Her ability to pick up my moods was amazing, and she gave everything she had to help me feel better, which eventually I did.
Starting this spring, I began to take Tiger outside nearly every day. She had always been an indoor cat, but I figured she would enjoy a change of scenery. I had taken her out before, but not with any regularity. She would soon look forward to the little trips where I would carry her around outside, and seemed eager to go out almost every time I did. The spring and most of the summer were wonderful. I was finally starting to get over 9/11, and I was showing my gratitude to Tiger for helping me get through it by spending extra time with her.
It was by midsummer that I noticed Tiger was slowing down. At first I attributed this to the heat, which had made me feel lethargic as well. Nothing seemed physically wrong with her, so I also thought possibly her age was finally catching up with her. Suzette, our Persian cat, had lost her ability to jump nearly two years ago, and she was just a few months older than Tiger. I figured it was certainly plausible that Tiger would finally slow down a bit at over fifteen years old. I had also noticed that the area under her throat felt strange, but attributed that to bones being more noticeable due to a weight loss. In any case, I made an extra effort to get Tiger to eat. She had always been thin, and certainly could not afford a weight loss. While she didn't lose much more weight, she continued to grow weaker. As soon as she started struggling to jump on my bed, I knew it was more than something age or heat related. A few weeks earlier, she was able to jump to twice this height with ease, and age related slowdowns never occur this suddenly. On September 24 we bought her to the vet.
Dr. Kirk initially found nothing terribly unusual until he decided to do a blood test. It was then that he noticed the strange lumps on her neck and mentioned the word tumor. The very word nearly caused me to faint, but at first the doctor prescribed antibiotics and medication to strengthen her heart and liver. He was thinking that the lumps might be infection related, and hoped the medication would bring them down. A severe tartar buildup which he removed led me to think that her problems might be related to tooth or gum infection, which would certainly be curable.
For over a week we continued to give Tiger her various medications, and build her strength. She seemed to enjoy food more than before since she could chew better. Later in the week she began choking occasionally while eating, and was having some trouble breathing. The lumps were not getting smaller, either. We bought her back to Dr. Kirk on October 2 for a closer examination of the lumps.
The fact that the lumps had not shrunk, and the presence of a smaller third one suggested a definite possibility of cancer. Tiger was too weak at that point to even consider operating on, and due to her heart and liver problems was not a good candidate for long term survival even if she survived the operation. Despite the apparent hopelessness of the situation, I was unable to bring myself to leave her. Although she was weak and had occasional difficulty swallowing, she was completely aware of everthing going on around her, and was not in any apparent pain. It just seemed to be too clinical of a setting for her last breath. After everything she had done for me, I wasn't ready to give up on her. Dr. Kirk gave her an injection to reduce the inflammation so that she could breath easier. I had hoped to be able to build up her strength enough to consider surgery for the growths. I was fully prepared to give up every cent I had if it would have cured her. The thought of life without her was unbearable to me, and something I was totally unprepared for.
After we got her home she seemed to start breathing better after an hour or so. I spent all afternoon lying with her. I gave her dinner a bit at a time, letting her swallow and rest so that she wouldn't start choking. Giving her a small amount of water occasionally seemed to help the inflammation. After dinner I lied down with her again for a few hours, and around 9 bought her into the living room to be with my mother. It was her habit to watch TV with my mother from about 8 until I took her to bed with me. While she was in the living room I finished a few things on the computer and completed a few chores. At 3:17 AM I shut off the computer, took a shower, and took Tiger to bed with me.
That night together was beautiful and something I'll treasure for the rest of my life. She was breathing almost normally, except for a few slight gasps for air that quickly passed as she cleared her throat. She slept on me in all the usual places, including next to my head. It was like old times. She seemed totally at peace. I told her that I loved her, that I always did and always will. She never needed to tell me how she felt. It was obvious to me how much she had cared about me all her life. We looked into each other's eyes several times that night, and nothing more needed to be said between us. Several times during the last two weeks I had broken down and cried thinking about the unthinkable, but never when she was awake. Yet somehow she knew what I was thinking, and her look told me that if she had to go, it would only be for a while. Somehow, somewhere we would be together again, as we were meant to be.
Early that morning she awoke and looked at the birds outside, as was her habit after waking up. We both drifted off again. The next time I awoke, she was lying next to my arm, and my mother was getting her breakfast ready. That night had made me hope that we could get enough food into her to make her strong enough to be operated on. I was hoping perhaps the growths wouldn't be cancerous, or if they were, that they could be successfully removed. As before, we fed her a bit at a time, letting her catch her breath in between bites. I gave her a bit of water, and let her rest. She would usually gasp for a minute, and then I would let her take a few more bites. I gave her one of her medications, and let her rest a minute before trying some more food. She took a few bites, and I pulled the dish away so she could rest. Shortly before 10 AM, she started gasping for air again, and I figured this would pass in a moment. However, the gasping became worse and worse. I tried holding her upside down to clear everything. I even tried using the eyedropper to clear away the inflammation. Nothing was working, and I felt her slipping away. As a last resort I tried mouth-to-mouth recussitation, but to no avail. She became limp in my arms, and I knew she was gone. Afterwards, I held her on my bed for a little while longer. As I write this my heart is broken and I know something precious in this world was lost to me. I hope that someday we'll be together again.
