Five O'Clock Somewhere

Welcome to Five O'Clock Somewhere, where it doesn't matter what time zone you're in; it's five o'clock somewhere. We'll look at rural life, especially as it happens in Rio Arriba County, New Mexico, cats, sailing (particularly Etchells racing yachts), and bits of grammar and Victorian poetry.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

In memoriam

Tres was a good cat

Tres had been going downhill rapidly for the past week. He had lost a lot of weight, and we took him to the vet’s office on Tuesday to get weighed; he was down to just over 5 pounds, down from more than 7 pounds the last time he had been in. He had been having more digestive problems. The vet’s office was booked up for this week, so we made an appointment for next Tuesday.

He won’t be needing that appointment. Last night, he collapsed, hardly able to walk. He went to sleep curled up in Tadpole’s arms, and this morning, he was gone.

We’ll miss him, how he was always the empathetic cat who knew what people are feeling and was on hand to offer up a purr and a snuggle. He was not always the smartest cat around, and we often laughed at his antics. When he first came to our household, he was an adolescent cat, gawky and a bit klutzy, but he outgrew that into a cat who created his own circus stunts. And he was the sweetest, most loyal cat we have ever known; we called him our puppy-cat.

Vaya con dios.

Labels:

2 Comments:

Anonymous rgsc@zianet.com said...

Tres' passing leaves a huge void. Tres was the sweetest, most loyal, empathic, and unselfish feline I've ever met. He could be quite clever and also had an enormous vocabulary of purrs and chirrs and sqeaks and squawks and sounds to hard to catgorize. He was no standard-issue cat.

Tres was a cat who most enjoyed being in touch. He would ride on someone's back or shoulder. When I sat down for breakfast, he would sit in the adjacent chair that was tucked in under the table and then stretch out a paw to touch my knee.

Tres was also, when younger, the "circus cat" and "skateboard cat" for some of his tricks. He also thought himself rather a cheetah, enjoying runs throughout the length of a home. Tres was additionally the "rubber cat", able to stretch to great lengths and ooze up and down furniture and people without having to jump.

Tres was also constantly underfoot -- usually not to beg for food or anything practical, but simply to be close to his humans. So, we had to watch our steps, and a perennial refrain at our house was,
"Excuse me Tres."

Without Tres, many of the habits and rhythms of our household are now torn. A source of joy, amusement, companionship, and gentle sympathy has gone from our lives.

Excuse us, Tres. We'll miss you so much.

Sat Feb 24, 06:12:00 PM MST  
Blogger Pat said...

Carol Anne could also tell many stories about how skilled Tres became at using the computer ... to get attention from her. Often enough Carol Anne would be innocently typing or staring at the screen when a paw would reach up from nowhere and touch just the right key for maximum effect. I think Tres even knew how to shut the computer down.

(minor grammar error; change "to" to "too" in the prior comment, first paragraph, next-to-last sentence ... it was typed on a laptop with a bad keyboard)

Today I removed the harness from Tres' body and took the body to the Best Friends Pet Crematory, which shares space with a cemetary and facilities for humans' funerals. It's somewhat fascinating to note how funeral industry trends in "memorialization" have reached the world of pets and their owners.

Mon Feb 26, 01:36:00 PM MST  

Post a Comment

<< Home