Simba

One of the last times I posted, I was feeling like I didn't have much to write about. This time, I have a lot to share and have been wanting to get to this for over a week.

Some sad news. We had to put our Simba to sleep last week. He and his sister, Jasmine have been with us for almost 11 years (July 26th is their 11th birthday). In a nutshell, Simba was a big baby of a cat ... a big, sassy, snuggly, needy, sweet cat who was easily stressed by change. (All of our moves have been challenging for him.) He weighed in at 18 pounds--truly a big cat. He was always sure to let us know what he wanted and/or needed ... and you'd be surprised by the foul mouth he had. Simba swore at me daily ("dammit, woman, I said I'm thirsty!" and "what the hell don't you understand when I say 'PET ME'?!") and would not give up if he was in the mood to be petted. I can't count the number of times he would "bull head" into my leg or hand--or head, if I was sleeping. He made Maya's day many times by laying across her lap--it was a win-win situation. She desperately wanted to hold, pet and brush a cat, and he just loved all the affection and attention.

A vet once told me that Simba had tendencies and symptoms that indicated he was diabetic. He also told me that if/when Simba got sick, it would be fast. The last month we had him, he was peeing and pooping all over the house. The last 2-3 weeks, it was everyday. He seemed less and less himself. He hadn't bitched at me to get him water for about 2 weeks. He was shying away from being petted. He seemed skittish and nervous when anyone walked in the room--even Tim and me. His arthritis made him uncomfortable--shifting often and moving slowly. He didn't eat anything in his last 2 days.

When I took him to the vet for his final time, he was uncharacteristically calm. He came out of his carrier as soon as I opened the door and sweetly nudged me. He instantly started to purr and just sat next to me for a minute. Then, he got down and walked around the room. He had never done that before. I always ended up having to pull him out of his carrier and then he'd want to hide behind me or in a corner. He would cry throughout the entire visit, practically begging me to take him home. He would shed like a maniac and his dander seemed to sprout more every second. He had always been a nervous wreck at the vet's office. But not that last day. It was almost like he was glad for it, or he was trying to make me feel better.

I cried for an hour before I took him to the vet, the entire drive there and all during the visit. I sobbed while I petted him afterwards and kissed his head. I still cry when I think about it, but I'm also glad that he's better now.

I imagine that he's in his own little cat heaven--a field with moths and bugs flitting about ... and he's chasing them with all he's got. For as big as he was, he was always such a kitten.

Rest in peace, Simby kitty.