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RIP Scooter

Kathryn

By Kathryn,
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Kathryn Newbie

Kathryn

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Yesterday, my cat Scooter, a 16-year-old diabetic who was 'knocking on Heaven's door' (a song that I most appropriately heard just last week), for the past 6 months or so, finally got an answer to his knock and passed away yesterday, sometime between 4 and 6 a.m. central time, Tuesday morning.

 

It's bitter-sweet, because though I will miss him, he'd definitely used up his body to the very last, like a loved old shirt that you wear until there's nothing left but rags (and he had a great life he'd gotten down to looking like a skeleton with a very thin, ratty fur coat on), he didn't seem to be suffering, and he died a natural death, at home, in bed with me during the night, and I didn't have to make the decision to euthanize (though after he woke me up with a strange 'preparation to a hairball' cough every 40 seconds or so for an hour, I had decided that it would be his last day, no matter what, and was prepared to go to the vet for one purpose or another--either for euthanasia, or to deliver a body for cremation).

 

The last 6-9 months of his life I think were fueled mostly from sheer willpower and love: that feeble little body couldn't make it on its own without an aweful lot of both.

 

Instead of dwelling on his death, I'd like to share some happy thoughts from his life (which I've mostly posted to my friends on VF as well).

 

How we met:

Scooter was a stray kitten--just a few months old--that was visiting the neighbors of a friend of mine (who lived just a block away). The family he was visiting couldn't take care of him (living in a slummy rental house, with numerous kids, the youngest of which was wearing diapers that were way overripe) so she suggested that I take him, so I did (it didn't take too much convincing).

 

Scooter looked like a smaller version of a Main Coon cat (the brown and black ones) and the first time I saw a photo of a Maine Coon, I was amazed at the ressemblances between this 'cat off the streets' and a fancy breed. I have a beautiful picture of him on the front porch, sitting down with his front paws off the edge of the porch, and his full mane (which he had in his prime) fluffed out.

 

His first days: From the beginning, he wanted to be 'just like his big brother Frisco,' who considered him to be a pesky little brat. (He got his name partly because he had to keep 'scooting' out of Frisco's way when F. tried to smack him!) I have a photo of them both at the front door of my old appartment, standing up with their front paws on the wooden bottom of the screen door. Scooter was about half the size of Frisco then (but ended up being almost as big).

 

What he loved:

Scooter loved to play "toss" with plastic rings from the top of gallon water bottles. (I call it 'toss' instead of 'fetch' because it seemed like I was doing most of the work at times, because as the game developed, he would bring it back and drop it about 4 feet away from me, so I had to go after it.)

 

He also loved to be brushed. Whenever he heard the word, 'brush,' he would come running. So I started spelling it rather than saying it (and I think he finally figured that out as well.) Luckily, I don't think the friends I talked to on the phone thought I was too crazy when I said things like "I have to pick up a new b-r-u-s-h," and only the cats were around when I would mumble to myself during repainting of my kitchen "now where did I put that b-r-u-s-h?")

 

Scooter was a snuggler. Especially after Frisco's death, he would sleep with me every night, usually all night, and want to be right in my arms. When I turned on my left side, he'd position himself so we were 'spooning.' When I turned over, he'd walk around me, or over me (in later years, sometimes over my head!) to get into the same position on the other side). In the last few months, he often followed me from room to room.

 

Scooter was my loyal workout buddy (until he got older and weaker). I work out at home, and there are many times when he would do 'floor work' with me, trying to get into his 'snuggling' position from bed, which worked alright until I had to change exercises or move my upper body! Or he would try to wash my ears while I was doing crunches. Once, he even jumped onto my chest (pretty flat when I'm lying down) while I was in the middle of a set of chest flyes while doing a workout!

 

When he wasn't joining me in a workout, he would sometimes nap nearby, sometimes using a dumbell as a pillow.

 

I will miss him, but my other kitties are doing their best to make his passing not so hard. Bobsie (who washed his head every morning, and gave him a 'washie' while he was lying in bed that night--that's the one thing that brings tears to my eyes about the whole thing...her washing his head while he was passing on) keeps bringing me her 'fishing' toy (actually, she has 3 of exactly the same toy, so there's always one she can find!) to play with. And Rascal has been sleeping with me more than usual, starting with the night/morning of Scooter's passing.

 

One odd thing is that I'm still so used to giving Scooter his insuliin shots 2x/day that when 8:30 a.m. or p.m. comes around, I feel like there is 'something I have to do.' Even now, I keep lookiing at my computer clock to see if it's 8:30 yet (I also feed all the cats at that time, but I don't need to, because they still have food in their bowls).

 

Thanks for listening, and sharing a bit of his life with me.

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finbarrio Newbie

finbarrio

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Sorry to hear about Scooter's passing. Thanks for sharing the history. It sounds like Scooter was probably ready for kitty heaven a while ago, but with such a loving mommy, he figured he'd stick around as long as possible. You did an awesome job at keeping him comfortable these past few months. RIP Scooter.

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gabrieldj Newbie

gabrieldj

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Kathryn, I'm sorry to hear of your loss. Remember that when Scooter went to sleep for the last time, he was in a warm, comfortable place, with the person he loved most in the world, and a lifetime of love and memories! We couldn't hope for a better way to go.

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