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"Thank you Rory and Family. You guys are the best."
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"Little Sisfur makes the best pillow!"
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Leave a treat for Figaro (1994-2008)
Catster stats for Figaro (1994-2008)
2 times 187
Special Gift Box:
Fig, Figgy, Fiders, Fiders'n'bits, Porky (Great-grandma's nickname for him)
April 16th 1994
Black and White
Touching his belly or paws.
Curious George toy, and his big blue mouse (now Crouton's)
Favorite Nap Spot:
Leaping sideways about 6 foot
A lady in our neighborhood had an unaltered indoor/outdoor calico...you can guess what happened when she was outdoors...
There were 3 kittens in the litter: a taby, a gray tabby with a malformed hind leg, and a tuxie. I hadn't had a kitty since the passing of Tuffy about 6 years prior. So the neighbor told my mom that I should have one of the kitties. Mom thought it might be nice to have a cat again, so we went to see the kittens. I liked all of them, of course, but was drawn to the runt gray tabby with the twisted leg, but my mom feared he would have more medical issues. Also, my parents wouldn't want a male because they believed all males would "spray" in the house. Mom's favorite was the tuxie, and the neighbor told us it was a girl, so we took her home for a "visit" to see how it went. She had the softest, highest pitched little meow I had ever heard. It was a heart-stealer and I fell in love. My Dad was not a big cat-fan, and I was nervous of what he would think. When we introduced him to the kitten his comment was, "Kind of catty-looking isn't it." (WTM?!?) But to my relief he let her stay. I named her Mississippi, and thought "Missy" would be a fitting nickname for the tiny voiced girl. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before we realized she had fleas. My Dad, not happy that he'd have to pay a vet bill already, let mom make a vet appointment to get rid of the fleas. One thing I can say for my dad, was that after our experience loosing Tuffy, he knew better than having another outdoor cat. So, the fleas had to go. So there we were, at the vet. I filled out the paperwork for Mississippi, and we went in. The vet came into the room to see Missy and said, "This isn't a Missy, it's a Mr!" I started crying immediately, which of course confused the vet, but I knew it meant my dad wouldn't want me to keep her. The vet assured my mom that most "spraying" issues are with un-neutered males.
You can guess what happened, my dad softened and allowed me to keep him. I had him for 14 lucky years. To this day we still tease my dad that he is "humany looking." Before Fig crossed the bridge, dad came to visit one last time and was honored that Fig chose his lap for a nap.
I will always love my boy.
Figaro was named after the tuxie in the Disney animation Pinocchio. He leaped sideways in the air, and was so energetic. He could reduce a cardboard box to chunks of scrap in a matter of hours. He could be feisty, and some people were afraid of him. I think he bit all of my male friends at one point or another (nope, didn't like guys). He would show off his white belly, but you'd better not touch it our you'd pay. I called him a "belly-siren." After a bad experience at a silly, unprofessional-behaving vet, he was never easily handled at the vet again. He loved the car ride, but as soon as you crossed the threshold the taxi would start shaking and snarling like a Tasmanian Devil was in there. He'd get so upset hissing and growling that he'd snort. One vet told me he was a cat from "h*ll." Needless to say I never went back there!
But, with me, he was my boy. Every night he slept on my pillow, pressed up against my head. I loved to fall asleep every night feeling his warm fur and hearing him purr. When you were eating something he wanted he'd wrap his paw around your arm and pull the fork/spoon towards him. And he wanted to eat everything! I lived alone with him for about 5 years -before serious relationships, before other pets--just us. He has a place in my heart that will never be replaced. --And that tiny little meow? Still had it at 18lbs.
Fig could have clobbered his little sister, but he loved her, and was super gentle with her. When they would "kitty-rumble," after some tumbles he'd usually end up laying on his back and swatting at her. She knew he didn't like his paws touched though, so she'd go around him and nip his paws and make him jump up.
He loved his Curious George toy so much and George became his middle name.
Figaro became violently ill at the same time of the huge pet-food recall. He recoverd, but was never completely the same. There was never a direct link to the recall, but who knows. When he lost his appetite a year later, our vet did an ultra-sound and had no good news...a couple of weeks later, the vet made a house-call: because I couldn't have his least favorite place in the world be his last moment here...
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December 18th 2013 7:51 pm
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This was the first year that the date didn’t hit me like a punch to the stomach first thing waking up... I can’t believe it’s been 5 years. 2008. What an end to the worst year of my life that was, losing you after Grandma, and all the other tribulations of that woeful year. I miss you and I think about how much my life has changed. I wonder what you would have thought of “the boys.” Calísta still hasn’t accepted any of them, and I wonder if she ever will. I know no other fur sib will ever fill the void you left in her life. She won’t even touch them.
I think of all the wonderful moments and memories you brought to my life. I remember that little “Psycho kitty” who would bound and leap sideways and reduce an entire cardboard box to shreds in an afternoon. I still have some things with your baby teeth marks in them. They always make me smile and get misty.
The days you and I spent living together alone were such special times of bonding. Now that I look around at my HUGE animal family and husband, I remember you and I before all of the chaos. (It’s good chaos though-just different).
I have your George and I take good care of him. Crouton and Czar love your blue mouse. It makes me happy to see it’s still being enjoyed. Lísta sleeps by my head every night in your spot she inherited. She doesn’t sleep ON my head though like you were fond of. How I miss that soft warm fur and rumble against me. I cannot look at a tuxie without thinking of you, and when I do my heart is filled with a longing for my boy. I still can’t believe that day had to come, that day I dreaded most when you left me behind for the bridge. It came too soon. I needed help that day, I wasn’t strong enough to do it on my own. I guess it was a test for a wonderful man who would soon be such a large part of my life. He helped me, help you in those last moments. Three years later he proposed to me on that day. Now it’s not as bitter, and there is a joy with the sorrow.
I love you my boy, always will.
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