Angel Pookie M. Dookie!!!


American Shorthair
Picture of Angel Pookie M. Dookie!!!, a male American Shorthair

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Home:Northridge, California, CA  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 14 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 8 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Angel Pookie M. Dookie!!!

Nicknames:
Pookie M. Dookie (the M stands for Meister), Pookmeister Dookmeister, Pookster, Dookster, Dooks, Pookimus Dookimus, Preious Baby, Baby Angel, My Angel kitty

Kitty Complexion:
 Activeness 
sleepyvery active
 
 Intelligence 
sillygenius
 
 Curiosity 
not curiousvery curious
 
 Friendliness 
timidaffectionate
 
 Vocal 
not vocalvery vocal
 

Sun Sign:
Quick Bio:
-mixed breed-cat rescue

Birthday:
June 1st 2000

Coloration:
Black and White

Likes:
Pookie looooooves his Mommy more tha anything.

Pet-Peeves:
Pookie is very reserved and non-confrontational and dislikes it when other kitties get in his face. I almost lost him when he stopped eating because another kitty was bullying him without my knowledge. Vanilla milkshakes with vtamins saved his life.

Favorite Toy:
A grocery bag. He loves getting inside and tearing it to shreds as I yell, "GETTHATBAG, POOKIE!!"!

Favorite Nap Spot:
Under Mommy's blanky when she is not home and on top of her head when she is.

Favorite Food:
Kitty Breakfast and Kitty Din-Din.

Skills:
Pookie taps my leg when he wants attention, stands on my knees when he wants to be picked up, and taps my heek when it's time for Kitty Breakfast.

Dwells:
indoors

Arrival Story:
In the first week of July 2000, it was extremely hot in the Los Angeles foothills community of Sunland-Tujunga. I was sitting in the showroom of a friend's rental car dealership when a known drug dealer walked in to rent a car. He had a "strawberry" with him: a young woman who basically "hangs around" with drug dealers to get free drugs. She was carrying around a tiny little black and white kitten in her hand. Only five weeks old, you would think that such a tiny baby would be terrified and scrambling for cover while being lugged around in some girl's sweaty hand along the busy main drag of this town (Foothill Blvd., for those not in the know, is six lanes wide with continual traffic along most of its one-hundred-mile length!), but this baby was just as docile and sweet as could be. My first thought was, "this kitten probably is close to death with heat prostration and probably hasn't had any food or water all day on top of it!" I just knew I had to act fast to get that baby away from her. I told her how cute I though the baby was and asked when was the last time he'd had anything eat. "Oh, I gave him some canned sardines at about 7:00 this morning." No doubt she'd been up all night smoking something. SARDINES!!!!!! Full of salt and nitrates and God knows what else, I was amazed that the little baby wasn't already dead. I asked when he'd had something to drink and she said, "I gave him some water at the same time." It was now 2:00 in the afternoon. That poor kitten hadn't had anything at all in seven hours. I asked her if if I could hold it. How relieved I was when she handed the baby over. I knew I would never give him back. I'd fight her for him if I had to. He just sat in my hand as sweet as could be, and I nestled him against my heart. "Can I have him?" I asked cautiously, getting ready for a catfight. "He's yours," she said without hesitation. YAHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! I took my little angel in the back, and gave him drink of fresh clean water in a tiny dixie cup, and he drank half of it, rigid with ecstasy as his little pink tongue lapped away a million miles an hour. Pookie is now seven years old, and he has turned out to be as sweet and docile as the first minute I saw him. That's just the way he is and always has been.

Lives Remaining:
6 of 9

Forums Motto:
I Just Want To Love My Mommy.

The Last Forum I Posted In:
Be in this story!

I've Been On Catster Since:
November 29th 2007 More than 6 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:
673542


Meet my family
Dandelion

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See all my Feline Friends
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Angel Pookie is Coming Home!!!


I Dreamed About Pookie!

December 11th 2009 2:19 pm
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It's been almost a year since the worst day of my life, the day that Pookie went to Heaven and I could no longer hug his gangly little body and kiss his apple head...I used to memorize his markings, his cute little black polka dot toes in furry white feet...the big perfectly round black polka dots on his white belly. One white front leg, one black. I used to call him "Polka Dot Pookie." He just purred. He liked everything I said to him. Except good-bye.
Was it almost a year ago in a small room in Dr. Shane's office, since I screamed my lungs out and cried until my guts were grinding as I clung to him one last time before I had to let him go forever. His poor, limp, skinny little run-down body that had endured so much horrific agony. I loved this little kitty so much, I had actually been dreading this day for years, and had even envisioned our last moments together, what I would say to him, I made up a special song to sing to him that would express all of the love that I felt for him and somehow it would be a special communication between us because there would be no doubt that both of us would be very aware that the dreaded time had come when we would be separated not just physically, but by an entire realm of experience, by dimensions, and the thought of it seemed so overwhelmingly insurmountable...would I ever, ever, ever see him again, would I ever truly get to be with him again, as we had been in this existence, or would this be it, forever? I envisioned that I would have to memorize everythng about him in case I never got to see or be with him again, how tenderly I would hold him so he would feel how much I cherish him as I held him. I would bury my face in his fur and memorize his scent, I would pet him and massage his toes, memorizing his adorable crazy markings...and he would purr and purr as he faded slowly away. And indeed that is how it happened. He purred right up until the moment that life left him. He loved me until the very last. He was a work of art to me in every way. How could a kitty, just a little kitty, inspire such profound feelings in me? He just DID, with everything he did. It is still so extremely painful to recall the events of that day. I spent an hour clinging to him after he died, I laid him down on the examination table so I could drape myself over him completely and pet his fur and kiss his face and tell him that I knew his spirit was hovering around me right then, I knew he was trying to comfort me and get me to realize he was all right and I told him that I KNEW he was all right, better than all right, he was in Heaven, out of pain and agony, away from all that is Hell on this Earth, he felt no fear, no sadness, no more being dragged through a godawful life of persecution at the hands of sick, rotten people; FINALLY, he was out of that broken, battered body, he was floating on air, dancing on the stars, running and jumping all around as high and as far and as much as he wanted to, from that moment on, he would know peace, quiet, rest, happiness, nothing but joy, joy, joy! And I told him that this is what I truly wished for him, and not to be concerned that I was so despondent, that I was actually glad that he was in such a wonderful place where he deserved to be...and I was so incredibly sad not because he was dead, but because I knew it would be a long time before we would be together again, and I knew how dreadfully I would miss him, and that was why I was sooo sad, because I wouldn't feel the paw tapping my leg and look down into that sweet little face asking me to pick him up and love him...I buried my face in his fur and showed him just how much I would miss everything about him, and told him every little thing that I loved about him, every little quirk and mannerism, every funny little look, every funny little thing he did that made me laugh, every unbelievably sweet and touching, special little thing that he did that was engraved in my heart forever...for about fifteen minutes I did and said these things, then I very, very carefully picked his totally limp body in my arms and arranged him so that he would not slip out of my arms and cradled him like he was exquisitely priceless, rocking him back and forth, screaming his name and all of my uncontrollable agony into his fur some more. 45 minutes more. Then clear fluid tinged with blood slowly slid out of the corner of his mouth, and I knew it was time to hand him over for good.

I am so grateful to Dr. Shane for giving me as much time as I wanted with Pookie after his death, and especially grateful to Chris, who took Pookie from me when I finally came out of the examination room, and cut off a piece of black and white fur for me as a keepsake.

I still have that piece of fur, along with some of his whiskers and shedded claws, in a bag in the freezer, somethng tangible that I can take out and look at any time I want.

A piece of Pookie, the most wonderful little being I have ever been blessed to know and love.

If I ever have enough money, I will not hesitate to clone Pookie. Some people try to claim that it would not the the same Pookie. Yes, it would. I would just be putting into motion the creation of a physical body, a vehicle, for the soul that is Pookie.

Pookie told me, from the other side, that he would return to me in about six months, he just wanted some time to rest. How could I deny him that, especially after all that he endured? He told me he would return in a better body than the last one, that he would be healthy and we would have many happy years together.

Pookie has already returned to me in another kitty body like he said he would, in July 2009, courtesy of a mechanical engineer here at Building & Safety who'd taken in a five-week-old kitten he found wandering in the street. He needed to find the baby boy a home in 24 hours after his landlady heard the kitten mewing one day, so I stepped in and said I'd be glad to help. I had planned to find the baby a home, but then he started doing all the things Pookie did. He even has one of Pookie's ailments, a sinus infection primarily in one nostril, the right one. He has the same sneezing fits that slowly eject the same huuuuge nasty boogers from the right nostril. And so far, no medication has worked to get rid of the infection, just like Pookie. But, this time, I am going to work and work on this illness until it is resolved, no matter what it is. I have the money to do this, unlike when Pookie 1 was young. I was homeless and living on $60.00 a week plus room and board when Pookie first started getting sick. I almost lost him during those years; his stomatitis flared up so bad that he didn't want to eat. No medication would work on that stomatitis, so I had to get creative, or lose him. I started giving him his favorite foods: milk, milk, milk, ice cream, baby food, butter, whatever he would eat, I stuffed him full of it, and it saved his life. I'd put a saucer of milk in front of him so skinny and dejected looking, and I'd sing softly, "Drink your mil-ky, Poo-kie Doo-kie," and he would put his head down and drink it all. I got an idea to start giving him milkshakes, and I'd go to Carl's Jr. and get the hand-mixed vanilla shake and give him as much as he would take, and he thrived. Three times I saved him from the brink of death by doing that.

Not long after I realized that the new baby boy kitty was Pookie, I had a dream about Pookie 1. I dreamt I was lying on my side in bed, and Pookie 1 walked up my side like he always did, stepped off me when he got to my chest, and turned and draped himself over my neck, curled his tail around my chin, and puuurrred his love and happiness to be with me again. I became conscious in the dream and was very still, savoring, petting him slowly, memorizing as much of the moment as I could, and I realized that, for some reason, his presence seemed "murky;" I wasn't sure why at the time, but now I know it's because he'd come back in Pookie 2's body, and it was quite an effort he was making to not only have an out-of-body experience to appear in my dream, but also to appear as Pookie 1. His appearance came the night before a particularly bad day at work in which I had a serious verbal altercation with a co-worker who'd been continually bad-mouthing me to supervisors, greatly exaggerating and twisting around as many things as she could in a blatant attempt to discredit me. Pookie came to comfort me and let me know that he is here for me, in Pookie 2.

When I woke up, Pookie 2 was perched on top of my hip as I lay on my side, like Pookie 1 used to do, and my hip was aching from his weight just like it used to. I called his name and he crawled off my hip and draped himself scross my neck and curled his tail around my chin and puuuurrrred.

Sheer bliss.

 

Pookie M. Tookie, I'm Waiting For You!!!

May 18th 2009 2:47 pm
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You showed Lori three different baby kitties you could be born into: an orange tabby, an all-white baby, and a gray-and-white baby. Lori said that someone will mention to me that "Someone has this baby kitty..." and it will be you!!!! Okay, so it's the 18th, and I know you are probably less than three weeks old at this point, if you were born right after we talked through Lori on the 26th...I'm trying to be patient, but it is oh-so-hard!!!!!! I just cannot wait to hold you in my arms again, PookiePookiePookiePookiePOOOOOKIIIIEEEEE!!!!!! The most wonderfullerest, beautifullerest, marvelouserest, fabulouserest kitty in the entire universe!!!!! Mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah-
mwah-mwah-mwah-mwah.......

 

I'm Getting Ready for POOKIE "M" TOOKIE!!!

April 20th 2009 2:38 pm
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POOKIEPOOKIEPOOKIEPOOKIEPOOKIEPOOKIEPOOKIE!!!!!!!!!!

Your Mommy is getting sooooo ready for you!!!

Weekend before last, I cleaned out that nasty garage, and I got sooooo sick, I stayed home all week from work! I could feel you sitting on top of me a whole lot while I slept. But your presence felt...lighter. Like you're...occupied elsewhere. You're not all "here," you're somewhat "there." My friend Renee's son's kitty just had babies. I'm supposed to go over to her house to see if you're one of them. I want to wait until they are at least five weeks old, because, Dear Angel Pookie, that is how old you were the first moment I set eyes on you, sitting in the palm of that girl's hand, the most adorable looking little "bandit kitty" anyone ever saw.

can't wait, can't wait, can't WAIT to see you and hold you and kiss your precious little face again!

Dr. Shane and Chris are looking forward to seeing you again, too! They sent me a note saying so!

Everybody loves POOKIE!!!

 
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