- Joined
- Jul 9, 2019
- Messages
- 18
- Purraise
- 60
Hi all,
Today I had to send my cat buddy to the Rainbow Bridge. His name was Nemo, and I use that as my forum name in his honor. Back in late 2014, Nemo, a black and white shorthair cat with a misaligned jaw adopted us. He had been hanging around for a while before late 2014 and we had been leaving food out for him. We found out from neighbors that his original owners had mistreated him as a younger cat. At one point, so the story goes, somebody hit him in the head with a golf club, resulting in his jaw becoming misaligned. By the time Nemo met us, his jaw had healed in a way that he did not feel any pain and was able to lead a relatively normal kitty life in the neighborhood in which we lived. Yes, his eating and drinking was a little awkward, but he did just fine. At that time we had three other kitties--one a stray that we had adopted in that neighborhood (and we later found out was related to Nemo), and two others that we had adopted from the local Humane Society. Nemo was a happy cat--loving and affectionate. He loved to play. When I would take walks through our neighborhood, Nemo would follow me, "talking" to me in his own way with his sweet meows. We joked that Nemo thought that he was a dog.
In early 2015 we started letting Nemo into our house. Up until that point, I had been leaving the man door of our garage open for Nemo to go inside when the weather was inclement. In the garage was a nice deep-seated swivel chair with soft blankets in it, which Nemo would take advantage of. Sometimes I would leave an electric space heater on to make sure Nemo would be warm and comfy. But because my and Nemo's relationship evolved, the decision was finally made to begin letting Nemo in the house whenever he wanted to come in. That was it, the little rascal had me!
In August of 2015 we were forced to move out of the house we had been renting and into a mobile home park. Our cats, including Nemo, came with us. Nemo loved the new location. The mobile home park abutted some undeveloped land, and he enjoyed exploring it. Sometimes we would explore together. The three things Nemo loved to do were exploring, playing, and curling up in my lap when I was at home. That little rascal knew the sound of both my personal car and my work vehicle, so whenever I got home, he would either be on the porch waiting for me or he would be inside the house next to the front door, waiting for me to enter. He would actually get excited when I came home, running around, batting at toys, scratching the kitty posts.
My wife and the other cats didn't especially like Nemo. He was a bit dominant with the other kitties--one of which was my wife's favorite. However, today when we said our final goodbyes to Nemo, my wife cried a lot. Turns out, she had fallen in love with Nemo in her own way.
Right now, just about three hours after having to say goodbye to my cat buddy due to end-stage renal failure, I, a manly 49 year-old guy, am alternating between bouts of uncontrollable crying and feelings of gratitude that I got the chance to know Nemo for the past several years and to give him a good life. I have had to assist in putting two other cats down--one who I had to sedate myself before the final ride to the vet. And let me tell you, losing Nemo is by far the hardest on me.
Hello, I am Nemo, and I love cats.
Today I had to send my cat buddy to the Rainbow Bridge. His name was Nemo, and I use that as my forum name in his honor. Back in late 2014, Nemo, a black and white shorthair cat with a misaligned jaw adopted us. He had been hanging around for a while before late 2014 and we had been leaving food out for him. We found out from neighbors that his original owners had mistreated him as a younger cat. At one point, so the story goes, somebody hit him in the head with a golf club, resulting in his jaw becoming misaligned. By the time Nemo met us, his jaw had healed in a way that he did not feel any pain and was able to lead a relatively normal kitty life in the neighborhood in which we lived. Yes, his eating and drinking was a little awkward, but he did just fine. At that time we had three other kitties--one a stray that we had adopted in that neighborhood (and we later found out was related to Nemo), and two others that we had adopted from the local Humane Society. Nemo was a happy cat--loving and affectionate. He loved to play. When I would take walks through our neighborhood, Nemo would follow me, "talking" to me in his own way with his sweet meows. We joked that Nemo thought that he was a dog.
In early 2015 we started letting Nemo into our house. Up until that point, I had been leaving the man door of our garage open for Nemo to go inside when the weather was inclement. In the garage was a nice deep-seated swivel chair with soft blankets in it, which Nemo would take advantage of. Sometimes I would leave an electric space heater on to make sure Nemo would be warm and comfy. But because my and Nemo's relationship evolved, the decision was finally made to begin letting Nemo in the house whenever he wanted to come in. That was it, the little rascal had me!
In August of 2015 we were forced to move out of the house we had been renting and into a mobile home park. Our cats, including Nemo, came with us. Nemo loved the new location. The mobile home park abutted some undeveloped land, and he enjoyed exploring it. Sometimes we would explore together. The three things Nemo loved to do were exploring, playing, and curling up in my lap when I was at home. That little rascal knew the sound of both my personal car and my work vehicle, so whenever I got home, he would either be on the porch waiting for me or he would be inside the house next to the front door, waiting for me to enter. He would actually get excited when I came home, running around, batting at toys, scratching the kitty posts.
My wife and the other cats didn't especially like Nemo. He was a bit dominant with the other kitties--one of which was my wife's favorite. However, today when we said our final goodbyes to Nemo, my wife cried a lot. Turns out, she had fallen in love with Nemo in her own way.
Right now, just about three hours after having to say goodbye to my cat buddy due to end-stage renal failure, I, a manly 49 year-old guy, am alternating between bouts of uncontrollable crying and feelings of gratitude that I got the chance to know Nemo for the past several years and to give him a good life. I have had to assist in putting two other cats down--one who I had to sedate myself before the final ride to the vet. And let me tell you, losing Nemo is by far the hardest on me.
Hello, I am Nemo, and I love cats.