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- Jul 9, 2019
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[Fair warning: this post is long, and much of it is "stream of thought", so there may be some repetition, overlap, or "disjointedness"]
Some of you know I first introduced myself to this forum last week, right after having to euthanize my cat, Nemo. This is my first full weekend without him, and it's been very hard for me. You see, I work Monday-Friday at a day job, and on many weekends I would spend a lot of time decompressing from the stressful work-week. Nemo was a big part of that. He would spend hours curled in my lap as I sat at my computer desk in the spare bedroom/office surfing the web, watching hulu/netflix, etc. If I went outside, Nemo would invariably find me and "hang out" with me while I did whatever it was that I was doing.
Nemo was the most unique cat I've ever encountered. It's like he really knew what he had gained when he found us and was filled with gratitude. From what I saw, he made the most of his time with us. He played, he snoozed in my lap (or on/next to me while I slept), and when I wasn't at work, he wanted to spend every waking moment close to me. If I took a walk in the neighborhood, Nemo just had to come with me, and he would "talk" to me while we wandered. In some ways he was part dog. Nemo knew the sound of my personal car and my work truck. My wife told me that she always knew when I had arrived home because when I pulled in, Nemo would jump up out of a dead sleep and make a beeline for the front door, where he would be waiting for me when I entered. Sometimes, he would already be outside exploring, and would climb up onto my vehicle once I pulled up to our house, often trying to get inside the vehicle with me! If I used the bathroom (such as to get ready for work), Nemo would try desperately to get in so he could be with me. I remember many times brushing my teeth with him sitting demurely on the counter, watching me.
So, this weekend has been a real struggle for me. Everywhere I turn at home, I feel an emptiness and a sense of profound loss so deep that at times it takes my breath away and I start to cry. I'm a guy, 49 years old, and it has been a very long time since I have cried as hard as I have this past week and this weekend.
I had to help euthanize my wife's cat back in 2010, who she had raised from a kitten. When we got married, her cat, Oswald, didn't like me much. But within a couple of months he and I had become buddies, and had formed a good relationship. I did cry when we had to put him to sleep. But with Nemo it is so much more intense. He and I fit together like hand-in-glove. It's like we were meant to find each other. (I think part of this stems from the fact that I often look at myself as a "damaged" or "broken" person, and Nemo was a "damaged" or "broken" cat. Lots of stuff for a psychiatrist to unpack there, I'm sure!). Even with the remaining two cats in our household, Puffin and Klause (who we refer to as the "Fluffy Boyz" because of their long hair), starting to show some measure of attention to me, I still miss Nemo terribly. I truly wish I could have raised him from a kitten rather than us finding each other later in his life.
We first encountered him back in 2009 when we moved into a new neighborhood where he was just one of many cats that some next door neighbors had, and they hardly paid attention to him. He had a misaligned jaw from having been hit in the head as a younger cat. Fortunately it had apparently healed in a way that did not cause him pain. Nemo was happy and energetic, and though it was somewhat awkward for him to eat and drink, he made it work. He was quite fastidious and took very good care of his coat.
From 2009 until early 2015, Nemo would hang out in our yard and we would put food out for him. We had a garage with a man door on the side, and during the colder months I would leave it ajar so he could go inside for warmth and shelter. I had a chair in the garage that had some old (and soft) sheets and blankets in it, which made for a perfect kitty bed. Nemo LOVED this! When I would go into the garage to play around on my ham radio, Nemo would inevitably end up either on the desk, snoozing next to the warm radio, or snuggled up in my lap. During the summers, Nemo could often be found snoozing under a shady bush next to our front porch.
Finally, in early 2015, things went to the next level. One day I noticed a flat worm coming out of Nemo's backside. While out working, I stopped by a Petco store and got some deworming pills. When I got home that day, we gave him a pill. I don't remember if we had to do it again, but in any event, we never saw another flat worm on him. A few weeks went by and we decided to start letting Nemo in our house. He was thrilled! He explored, he quickly found the litterboxes (we had other cats), and he quickly made himself at home. My wife and I sleep in separate bedrooms because we both snore and tend to keep each other awake. It's one of those things in marriage where you just make adjustments. Anyway, Nemo immediately began the habit of sleeping with me--a habit he continued to follow until he got sick from kidney failure last week. Even then, he slept in the same room with me.
In August of 2015 we were forced to move out of the cozy house we were renting when the owners decided to sell it. A lot was happening in our lives at that time, and we ended up not taking Nemo with us to the new place when we moved. But it really nagged at me that we had left Nemo behind. My wife didn't really care, as we had three other cats and they were her priority. Finally, after a week of guilt, I came back to the old house, which was still empty. I pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, and called Nemo. He had been sleeping under that bush by the front porch, and when he heard me call him, he immediately got up and came trotting over to me, tail up and "talking". I scooped him up, put him in the car with me, and took him to our new home, where he lived happily until last week.
I never dreamed I would ever form such a close bond with an animal, and though I am hurting terribly right now, I am glad that I did.
Rest In Peace, little Nemo.
Some of you know I first introduced myself to this forum last week, right after having to euthanize my cat, Nemo. This is my first full weekend without him, and it's been very hard for me. You see, I work Monday-Friday at a day job, and on many weekends I would spend a lot of time decompressing from the stressful work-week. Nemo was a big part of that. He would spend hours curled in my lap as I sat at my computer desk in the spare bedroom/office surfing the web, watching hulu/netflix, etc. If I went outside, Nemo would invariably find me and "hang out" with me while I did whatever it was that I was doing.
Nemo was the most unique cat I've ever encountered. It's like he really knew what he had gained when he found us and was filled with gratitude. From what I saw, he made the most of his time with us. He played, he snoozed in my lap (or on/next to me while I slept), and when I wasn't at work, he wanted to spend every waking moment close to me. If I took a walk in the neighborhood, Nemo just had to come with me, and he would "talk" to me while we wandered. In some ways he was part dog. Nemo knew the sound of my personal car and my work truck. My wife told me that she always knew when I had arrived home because when I pulled in, Nemo would jump up out of a dead sleep and make a beeline for the front door, where he would be waiting for me when I entered. Sometimes, he would already be outside exploring, and would climb up onto my vehicle once I pulled up to our house, often trying to get inside the vehicle with me! If I used the bathroom (such as to get ready for work), Nemo would try desperately to get in so he could be with me. I remember many times brushing my teeth with him sitting demurely on the counter, watching me.
So, this weekend has been a real struggle for me. Everywhere I turn at home, I feel an emptiness and a sense of profound loss so deep that at times it takes my breath away and I start to cry. I'm a guy, 49 years old, and it has been a very long time since I have cried as hard as I have this past week and this weekend.
I had to help euthanize my wife's cat back in 2010, who she had raised from a kitten. When we got married, her cat, Oswald, didn't like me much. But within a couple of months he and I had become buddies, and had formed a good relationship. I did cry when we had to put him to sleep. But with Nemo it is so much more intense. He and I fit together like hand-in-glove. It's like we were meant to find each other. (I think part of this stems from the fact that I often look at myself as a "damaged" or "broken" person, and Nemo was a "damaged" or "broken" cat. Lots of stuff for a psychiatrist to unpack there, I'm sure!). Even with the remaining two cats in our household, Puffin and Klause (who we refer to as the "Fluffy Boyz" because of their long hair), starting to show some measure of attention to me, I still miss Nemo terribly. I truly wish I could have raised him from a kitten rather than us finding each other later in his life.
We first encountered him back in 2009 when we moved into a new neighborhood where he was just one of many cats that some next door neighbors had, and they hardly paid attention to him. He had a misaligned jaw from having been hit in the head as a younger cat. Fortunately it had apparently healed in a way that did not cause him pain. Nemo was happy and energetic, and though it was somewhat awkward for him to eat and drink, he made it work. He was quite fastidious and took very good care of his coat.
From 2009 until early 2015, Nemo would hang out in our yard and we would put food out for him. We had a garage with a man door on the side, and during the colder months I would leave it ajar so he could go inside for warmth and shelter. I had a chair in the garage that had some old (and soft) sheets and blankets in it, which made for a perfect kitty bed. Nemo LOVED this! When I would go into the garage to play around on my ham radio, Nemo would inevitably end up either on the desk, snoozing next to the warm radio, or snuggled up in my lap. During the summers, Nemo could often be found snoozing under a shady bush next to our front porch.
Finally, in early 2015, things went to the next level. One day I noticed a flat worm coming out of Nemo's backside. While out working, I stopped by a Petco store and got some deworming pills. When I got home that day, we gave him a pill. I don't remember if we had to do it again, but in any event, we never saw another flat worm on him. A few weeks went by and we decided to start letting Nemo in our house. He was thrilled! He explored, he quickly found the litterboxes (we had other cats), and he quickly made himself at home. My wife and I sleep in separate bedrooms because we both snore and tend to keep each other awake. It's one of those things in marriage where you just make adjustments. Anyway, Nemo immediately began the habit of sleeping with me--a habit he continued to follow until he got sick from kidney failure last week. Even then, he slept in the same room with me.
In August of 2015 we were forced to move out of the cozy house we were renting when the owners decided to sell it. A lot was happening in our lives at that time, and we ended up not taking Nemo with us to the new place when we moved. But it really nagged at me that we had left Nemo behind. My wife didn't really care, as we had three other cats and they were her priority. Finally, after a week of guilt, I came back to the old house, which was still empty. I pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, and called Nemo. He had been sleeping under that bush by the front porch, and when he heard me call him, he immediately got up and came trotting over to me, tail up and "talking". I scooped him up, put him in the car with me, and took him to our new home, where he lived happily until last week.
I never dreamed I would ever form such a close bond with an animal, and though I am hurting terribly right now, I am glad that I did.
Rest In Peace, little Nemo.
Condolences on losing Nemo - clearly, he was your soul kitty. Bless you for giving him a good life - he left this earth knowing fine companionship and true love.
