09/19/2022
Sadly, this will be my last post.
Recently I crossed over the rainbow bridge and passed full time into the animal spirit world after an unexpected illness that used up my 9 lives a bit quicker than I thought. The creator allowed me this unusual opportunity to temporarily borrow some opposing thumbs so I could post this final farewell to all my feline friends, family and fans. I had a great run at life with no regrets and could not have found a better family of humans to adopt.
I grew up in an orphanage with several brothers and sister kittens at some place called Home Depot…. wait a sec… Cat Depot. They had so many cats they called us the Cheese Kitty’s; my brother was Monterrey Jack, a sister Brie, brother Cheddar, brother Swiss, a sister Feta, a runt brother name Grilled, and they called me Colby. When I first found my real human family, the male started calling me Pat because he flipped me over and could not find any definitive signs of gender. So, I became Pat the Cat. A safe bet, he thought. And once he got me that little metal name tag, there was no going back to being referred to as a type of cheese.
The name change was fine with me because then I felt better actually eating cheese, which was one of the many people foods I loved to steal from time to time. Bread was another. I would eyeball that nice plastic-wrapped round of freshly baked and when those humans went to the other room I went after that bag. Ripping a hole and burying my face in bread until they would let out a yell for me to, “get my ass off the counter”. My other weakness was sliced turkey. Had I been big enough I would have taken down anyone in my way for a slice or two. I once had a dream where I jumped upon a table, attacking and eating an entire Thanksgiving turkey off a table in front of a family of humans. And they let me. It was a good dream.
I ended up on the street at a young age. Some trashy family with kids and two other cats decided they needed to add Colby to their family. At first those humans gave me the lovey-dovey treatment that most cutesy kittens get. But their other cats kept beating the s**t out of me and one of them one sprayed me all the time. So I started ducking out in the yard to get away, further and further down the nearby streets I explored. Next thing I know I was drinking from mud puddles and hunting birds for dinner. I would sneak back now and then for some crunchy food, but I kept my distance and soon got the hell out of there.
I wandered across yards, over fences and up the street, laying on the road in front of different houses and checking out the humans. I eventually found and adopted my parent humans after a week or so of putting on the cute, friendly and slightly evasive act. I started laying in their street, then up in the trees, over on the front porch and eventually I made it into the house. All the while they would toss treats to lure me. Not a bad gig. One day the male human captured me and put me in a cage. I’m screwed, I thought, I knew it was too good to be true. He's taking me back to live with those cheese heads…s**t, I should have fought harder.
He took me to this place with other cats and dogs and people in white coats, where they found this chip-thing in my neck and that told my whole story. They contacted the trashy family and said to come and get me. But they didn’t want me. So, I went back to the house with the male human, who talked with the female human and decided I could stay. They signed some papers, and I hit the lottery with a new home.
Life became better than good. I could come and go as I pleased, in and out. As long as I always came back for supper at the end of the day, it made them happy. And I kept my independence. They and their fellow humans bought me all kinds cat toys, but I preferred to go hunt the real things that moved like mice, birds, snakes, lizards, squirrels; there was bounty of game to hunt always at the reach of my paws. They had no idea how much I hunted, but mostly for sport, since now I had an endless supply of food. They even built this little door in the house that allowed me to go in and out whenever I wanted, except at night when they closed it. But I often found ways to escape.
One day I went a little too far and brought them the gift of a live bird though the door that got free from my grasp inside the house. Feathers and bird s**t everywhere. A day later I thought I would make up for my wrongdoings by bringing them the gift of a live mouse that also got loose in the bedroom. That became the end of the cat door. But hey- it was fun while it lasted.
Life continued to be special for several years. I was cordial and accommodating with the little pretty dogs who sometimes came to visit my humans (they knew their place). I provided the necessary entertainment values required by a cat, and always made sure I was the center of attention, at my own discretion and terms, when we had visitors.
My humans decided one day to build extra rooms onto the house so for a while I had a strenuous job of patrolling the new perimeter of the project and making sure no other animals were intruding. It was often exhausting work. When the project was finished, I had a whole new world of unlimited places where I could plop my ass down for a well-deserved nap.
From time to time, I had a few local cat friends. Mostly the black feral guys who were skinny and skittish. I got along with them whenever they showed up. They reminded me of my street-cat days. Often, I would hang with them for a few days and we would hunt together, showing them where the easy game hung out. There was a straggly tan cat that lived up the street and for a while we used to fight. I whipped his ass a few times, but the skirmishes were almost always a draw. Eventually he got the message and stayed away. I also had a neighboring Jack Russell who liked to crap in our yard. He thought he was hot s**t until the day I confronted him face to face and made him back down the street toward his house. I gradually came to conclusion that I like humans much more than cats and dogs.
My humans always called me Kitten. It started as a nickname but soon became the name I would actually turn my head and respond to. Even though I was way past the kitten stage, I didn’t mind what they called me since there was food involved. For a while I became a big fat lazy kitten who spent a lot of time sleeping in weird positions on top of challenging obstacles. What more could a cat ask for.
Several months ago, the bizarre seizures started. Always short and random. The humans took me several times to the cat place and the nice people in white coats did all kinds of testing and poking. My humans would take these s**tty tasting pills and stuff them in cat treats and that helped things for quite a while and the seizures went away. After awhile I just began to not feel right. I didn’t seem to care much about eating or chasing anything.
One day during an intensive nap I was visited by the spirit of another cat. I think it was my mother because it strolled around on a cloud that looked like Swiss cheese and pranced with its grey-striped tail high in the air, like I used to strut. The cloud cat lowered its head a little then sat up and raised its paw and begin to motion to me to come forward. The cat started walking away, then turned and winked.
From that point on I began to spend more and more time in this cat spirit world. When I fell asleep to the dream world, I was with my humans who were loving and trying to cure me. When I would awaken, I would find myself back with the animal spirits. There, I was energetic and hungry and all the food tasted like turkey. There were other cats, dogs and all kinds of animals that would appear and hang out with me. And we all got along. For a while I had a pet goat. Not sure why. Probably because when my humans would see a cute or unusual animal, they would say things like “Kitten would like a bunny” or “Kitten would like a hedge-hog” and so on. The goat was pretty cool. And it probably had something to do with cheese.
The dreams of my illness continued. The humans would take me to several places where they would talk to people with white coats about medicines and treatments. They went to extremes. I would dream of my female human feeding me sloppy food with a syringe and my male human always making sure I was taking these pills. I would dream of getting weaker and no longer being myself. Then I would wake up in this wonderful spirit world which was full of play and fun and running and chasing, where I had an endless supply of sliced turkey to eat.
I soon had this a final dream that involved my humans. We spent many hours sleeping together on the bed and couch, both taking turns holding and comforting me. I had this favorite blanket and although I was weak, I kneaded-up one long final batch of “biscuits” on that blanket and slept between them for a long while. I dreamed that I knew I was in pain but strangely I could not feel it. As if the love had made all the pain go away. Soon, in my own way I looked at them both and my eyes told them, “It’s time to go - I have some friends waiting for me”.
I then had one more dream that we all went back to the place with the nice ladies who wore the white coats. Everything was comforting. And it was ok.
And then I was woke! Not like those stupid politicians who abuse words, but I was now fully awake in this cat and animal spirit world. Where I am healthy, happy, constantly hungry and surrounded by four legged friends and some feathery ones who, for some reason, are keeping their distance.
During my time with humans, I was privileged to learn the lesson of love which is: the more you give, the more you get. They opened their hearts and home to me. They tolerated all my crazy antics, got mad when I attacked or brought home other live animals, but through it all they would hold me like a baby (which I tolerated) and give me goofy whisker kisses and call me sappy names. They were and will always be a part of me and I’m pretty sure I lived deep in their hearts.
I achieved the main goal in my life as Pat the Cat: to make sure they’ll always remember me.
