|Purred: Fri Jan 14, '11 6:34am PST |
|Spike was brought to me about 15 years ago by my cousin, who decided she didn't want a kitten. I wasn't looking for a little orange fuzzball, but I couldn't turn him away. This little kitten would climb on anything, and we once found him on top of the curtains, after he decided it would be fun to scale them. I used to think it was cute that he would climb up my clothes to get to my shoulder, until the one day I was wearing shorts! Ouch! He chewed on everything too. I had to wrap all my electrical cords with rubber tubing, and he bit the doorstops off every door in my house.
Well, those were his kitten years, and as he got older, he definately mellowed out and became the best little guy ever. He loved people and always came to meet new visitors. He seemed to especially like men, and would immediatly jump on the lap of any of my husbands friends that would visit. He always came when I called him and loved to sit next to me and watch tv.
His favorite toys were little fake mice and the laser pointer.
Last month, I noticed he was eating less dry food, drinking more, and his fur was looking a little greasier, and I decided I would take him to the vet. He was still playful and friendly and wolfed down wet cat food. He always hung out with me in the bathroom in the morning while I got ready for work, but his last day, he stopped outside the bathroom door and wouldn't come in, but just gave me a little "meow". When I looked there again, he had left. I looked for him before work, but I couldn't find him.
I talked to my husband later who said he had seen him around noon time and he seemed fine, but when I got home from work that night, I found him in the living room and he had died.
He was a great cat and I miss him, but he had a good life and didnt suffer long. I wish I could have been there for him though.
Edited by author Fri Jan 14, '11 6:49am PST
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