It’s been a tough couple of months as we’ve lost three of our beloved pets. We knew they were all getting up there in age, but nothing could have prepared us for so much loss over such a short period of time. I decided to write this blog primarily for me. I have a fleeting memory and didn’t want to forget all the beautiful things about our amazing furry family members. I’m starting with Tweety. He was the first we lost in mid November suddenly with a diagnosis of cancer. I’ll remember Monkey and our beautiful dog Hank in a future post, when I’m ready. Right now the house is very quiet but we are all managing day by day and are grateful to have Lou and Sweety to cuddle with as we await the arrival of two beautiful Bengal kittens and all the excitement that will bring to our home in late March. I can’t wait to write that post, introducing the new ‘kids’! Now, about Tweety...
He was our beautiful orange tabby. He found his way to our family in the fall of 2005 when he was just a few months old. He was a smart one from day one. Reaching and standing up on his hind legs begging to be picked up. He was rescued in the parking lot at work, brought in and kept warm and fed. He joined his brother and sister Monkey and Sweety for a weekend at the lake. Thought to be only temporary while the local SPCA waited for an opening. Monkey and Sweety were brand new to the family right at the time Tweety came to us. Three kittens at once, no we surely couldn’t do that!? But alas, the weekend at the lake which started out with some competitive attention seeking, ended with all three found curled up together in the living room chair. That was it, Tweety was home. This is the actual picture I took that morning at the lake.
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| Sweety, Tweety and Monkey (Left to Right) |
One of the smartest ‘buds’ we ever had. He became a star with our video ‘five tricks a minute’ showcasing his intelligence - the television channel Animal planet even aired this video! Dan had taught him to sit up, speak, give five and reach as high as he could on his tippy toes to give a high high five. Just so happy to perform and please, never needing or even liking, traditional cat treats. His most favourite reward was a tap tap tap on his behind. Always hiding his purr so deep inside him he was different and unique in so many ways. He loved to be picked up and hugged, would come and sleep on your lap for hours, and in his final days took roost in a spot up beside me in the corner of the bed. I never needed an alarm clock, each morning just before it was to go off he’d gently chirp to wake me up.
I’ll remember his beautiful face and personality, his ever so quiet squeak, how he stood up on his hind legs to beg for a hug, how he’d sing for fresh water in his very own dish in the bathroom, how every now and then he’d show you his purr, deep and strong and how he’d come and sit silently on the side of my desk while I worked, within a few inches of my face...just wanting to be close or perhaps telling me, ‘hey mom...don’t you know it’s lunchtime’?
I’ll remember him outside in the back yard, sunning himself all stretched out in the sun. How he’d squint when it was too bright and how he’d bolt back to us when we called him. Although he’d come when you called his name, you didn’t always need to do that. If you really wanted him to come quickly all you needed was a fly swatter. No matter where he was, all you had to do was slap the fly swatter on a cushion and he’d come running. He loved to get swatted with that thing, it was his absolute favourite!
I’ll remember how he’d cuddle up on Dad’s robe after a shower, how he loved to be played with in bed at night, how he loved just to have you hold his tail or his back leg as he lay on the bed in complete bliss. And, how he asked for attention by ever so gently pawing at his Dad and quietly squeaking as if to say “awe, come on Dad, please can’t you pester me?” And when the lights went out, he’d quietly leave and go to his bed.
I’ll remember how he would go downstairs and sing at mom’s (gramma’s) door every morning, asking her to open it so that he could hang out in her window or on the towel reserved for him on her couch. Mom remembers how she’d tell him it was time for bed, how he’d jump off the couch and come over for some loving before he left for the night. He was so very smart.
I’ll remember how he’d meet us at the door whenever we came home and especially after walking Hank, he’d wait on his bed on the top of the front hall cabinet then would chirp to welcome us home and run down the stairs to meet us all lovingly and looking to be picked up and hugged.
I’ll remember how he loved to play on the stairs...a game that wasn’t so “fun” if you needed to get up the stairs fast. You see, he’d straddle the stairs until you slapped (well more like “patted”) his backside. He’d gradually go up step by step, making you stop and keep up this routine until he got to the top and was sufficiently satisfied. It was so much fun apparently that he taught his brother Lou and now Lou does it ❤️
I’ll remember his gait, his strong muscular legs and how he walked with authority. And his special ‘squeak’ of a voice, his head nod, his reaching up to be picked up for a hug.
So very many memories...he was so special...we’ve all been left with a huge hole in our hearts. He lived a beautiful full life, but was still taken far too soon. We had hoped to take him on our travels to Mexico. He’ll be with us in our hearts, and we’ll have this beautiful watercolour my husband commissioned to put up in the RV so he can join us in spirit.
We will forever remember you bud, thank you for finding us. We love you.
Rest in peace 💞 November 16, 2019
