As an infrequent diarist and commenter here at the Land of Kos, I often observe diaries and comments that run the gamut from whacko rants to complex political analyses to wonderful snark, with everything else somewhere in between. Many of these "in-between" diaries are often simple but wonderful expressions of the thoughts, hopes, wishes, desires and fears of Kossacks from all walks of life.
In this spirit and at the risk of trying the patience of my fellow Kossacks and wasting blog space, I humbly request deference to pay homage to a dear family member in hopes of hastening the healing process for the BK family.
Whiskers the WonderCat (a. k. a. The Supreme Ruler of the United Federation of Universes by my oldest son and as FatCat by the youngest son), was with the Big Kahuna family for nearly 12 years. I personally have been owned by many cats and dogs (not to mention a couple of horses, a cow, rabbits, birds, and an occasional lizard or two), but I have never seen one animal so completely win the hearts of all its humans.
Whiskers was a "foster" kitten being cared for by a nice lady who was helping the local YMCA Pet Shelter. Having six toes on each foot, a sweet disposition and a knack for opening things that most cats couldn’t/shouldn’t have been able to open endeared him to us.
Several months after coming to live with us, he suddenly disappeared after having been last seen nosing around the spare tire carrier on my pickup truck just before I left to pick up our supper pizza. Living in a rural area had taught me not to expect Whiskers to ever return. After missing for two weeks, he suddenly appeared one below-freezing night in our bedroom window. We speculated he had gone for a ride somewhere on the underside of my truck and still managed to find his way home from over 10 miles away. Having spent all his energy on his own Incredible Journey, he came down with a nasty respiratory infection and spent nearly a week in our bedroom convalescing. Never again did he stray far from the confines of our six acres.
Whiskers rode out Hurricane George with me in 1997 and evacuated with the whole family during Hurricane Katrina. He rode a motorcycle (only once and just for kitty bragging rights), chased geese (only to find out they didn’t approve), and discovered the top of roll-up garage doors don’t make good hiding places (they move). He also outlived one canine (FrogDog) and several feline companions: Ashley, Princess, and Squallin’ Baby, the latter named by me (explaining why Mrs. BK won’t let me name the pets anymore).
Unfortunately, Whiskers had to say goodbye today. Kidney failure, something we had not been aware of until this week, suddenly brought him much pain and suffering, loss of appetite and weakness. Somehow, he had managed to hide this illness from us until he received his annual vaccinations earlier this week. Last night, I slept on the floor with him trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Unaware of the final diagnosis at the time, I thought it strange he chose the exact same place he had slept when recovering from his illness nearly 11 years ago. Now I know he had remembered the one spot in the house where he knew he would be taken care of unfailingly.
The vet speculates the added stress of the vet visit, the vaccinations and a nasty cold pushed his body beyond the limit. Today, we made the very emotional and difficult decision to put him to sleep, so he would suffer no more. I'm 42 years old, been through a lot with my family and marriage, but I cried today more than I have in years.
I’ve often said the hardest thing to deal with is sick pets and sick children because neither understands why they are hurting; they only know they’re hurting. If there were only some way I could take their pain and suffering on myself, I would do so. Anyone who has ever had to care for little children is familiar with this heart-breaking sentiment.
I will be the first to admit Whiskers really was just a cat and not really the Supreme Ruler of the United Federation of Universes, that cats are probably just dumb animals and probably incapable of understanding our emotional attachments to them. I also acknowledge there are more important things to hold our concerns, such as war, poverty and justice and sentimental silliness such as mine rates as blog-abuse.
Even having said this, the death of this one cat has affected me as much as did the sudden deaths of my father and my grandmother nearly three years ago and I’m at a loss to explain why. Tonight, fellow Kossacks, BK and his family are mourning the loss of their 24-toed family member, the short one who always wore a fur coat, regardless of the weather.
Goodbye, Whiskers the WonderCat. We'll miss you.