It's taken me a couple of days to be able to come out here and write about this. We had to let Stumpy go on Christmas Eve morning. He had gotten so bad that he quit eating and drinking, and had a massive seizure when he vomited. There was no specific disease that took his life, he was just old and done with life. He would have been 18 years old in April.
What can I ever say that would give justice to his life? He was king of my household since he was 18 months old. During that time, he ruled over as many as 17 cats and 5 dogs. Not only did he train the multitudes of cats that passed through my life in the last 16 years, he also trained all of the dogs. And he did this with a lifelong auto-immune disease.
Imagine a 17 year old cat with no teeth, half deaf, half blind, and bad arthritis putting a 120 pound dog in his place. He did that to the neighbor's dog who came by to visit one day. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat being idolized so much by his "minions", that they would try to nurse off of him, even when those cats were 12 years old themselves. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a 12 year old cat who just woke up from surgery to have all his teeth removed jump on a counter to eat the dry food that a vet tech was pouring into a bowl for another cat, then batting at the vet tech when she tried to take the bowl away from him. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that spent hours upon hours purring or asleep on your chest, or snuggled up next to your chest when you were asleep. Then imagine that cat growling viciously at you if you shifted positions and disturbed him. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that LOVED dogs so much that he spent hours snuggled up next to them (and growled at them if they moved). That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that lived for 8 years with little fur on his body because he was allergic to one of the things he loved the best, his dog pal Ellie Mae (his hair grew back a week after she crossed). That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that could control the behavior of a household of 17 feral born cats and keep a relative peace through his leadership. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a young cat spending hours flinging himself at the face of a 95 pound dog in rapturous play, just to have the dog slap him to the ground with his snowshoe sized paw. That was Stumpy.
Imagine an 18 month old "kitten" becoming alpha cat the moment that his role model died suddenly from heart failure, controlling his own grief to step into his ultimate role in life. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a kitten ripping a squirt bottle out of your hands when you held it up to warn him to stop a bad behavior (OK, so I was stupid with the squirt bottle back then). That was Stumpy.
Imagine a 5 week old feral born kitten, alone in a dirt floor storm cellar when a wooden crate toppled over and cut off half of his tail, and when I discovered him, fought me off like a hell-cat up until the time I dropped him on my husbands chest, when he decided to lay down, purr, then fall asleep. That was Stumpy.
Stumpy knew what he wanted in life with no uncertain terms, and got exactly what he wanted from it. He loved dogs, so took the time to train them so that they would bow down to him. He loved cats, so he smacked them into shape so that he could spend time with them. And he loved us, so he told us when he wanted love, and when he wanted us to stop what we were doing. He was the champion of his world and he never backed down from what he wanted.
There is a tremendous sized void in my heart and my household right now. While I normally resolve my own grief by throwing myself into helping the kids through their own grief, I'm finding that we are all trying to work through this together. We're all out of sorts and it's going to be a very long time before we start to heal. That is Stumpy.
What can I ever say that would give justice to his life? He was king of my household since he was 18 months old. During that time, he ruled over as many as 17 cats and 5 dogs. Not only did he train the multitudes of cats that passed through my life in the last 16 years, he also trained all of the dogs. And he did this with a lifelong auto-immune disease.
Imagine a 17 year old cat with no teeth, half deaf, half blind, and bad arthritis putting a 120 pound dog in his place. He did that to the neighbor's dog who came by to visit one day. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat being idolized so much by his "minions", that they would try to nurse off of him, even when those cats were 12 years old themselves. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a 12 year old cat who just woke up from surgery to have all his teeth removed jump on a counter to eat the dry food that a vet tech was pouring into a bowl for another cat, then batting at the vet tech when she tried to take the bowl away from him. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that spent hours upon hours purring or asleep on your chest, or snuggled up next to your chest when you were asleep. Then imagine that cat growling viciously at you if you shifted positions and disturbed him. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that LOVED dogs so much that he spent hours snuggled up next to them (and growled at them if they moved). That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that lived for 8 years with little fur on his body because he was allergic to one of the things he loved the best, his dog pal Ellie Mae (his hair grew back a week after she crossed). That was Stumpy.
Imagine a cat that could control the behavior of a household of 17 feral born cats and keep a relative peace through his leadership. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a young cat spending hours flinging himself at the face of a 95 pound dog in rapturous play, just to have the dog slap him to the ground with his snowshoe sized paw. That was Stumpy.
Imagine an 18 month old "kitten" becoming alpha cat the moment that his role model died suddenly from heart failure, controlling his own grief to step into his ultimate role in life. That was Stumpy.
Imagine a kitten ripping a squirt bottle out of your hands when you held it up to warn him to stop a bad behavior (OK, so I was stupid with the squirt bottle back then). That was Stumpy.
Imagine a 5 week old feral born kitten, alone in a dirt floor storm cellar when a wooden crate toppled over and cut off half of his tail, and when I discovered him, fought me off like a hell-cat up until the time I dropped him on my husbands chest, when he decided to lay down, purr, then fall asleep. That was Stumpy.
Stumpy knew what he wanted in life with no uncertain terms, and got exactly what he wanted from it. He loved dogs, so took the time to train them so that they would bow down to him. He loved cats, so he smacked them into shape so that he could spend time with them. And he loved us, so he told us when he wanted love, and when he wanted us to stop what we were doing. He was the champion of his world and he never backed down from what he wanted.
There is a tremendous sized void in my heart and my household right now. While I normally resolve my own grief by throwing myself into helping the kids through their own grief, I'm finding that we are all trying to work through this together. We're all out of sorts and it's going to be a very long time before we start to heal. That is Stumpy.
I´m really so sorry for this really unrepearable loss....
really so sorry...
