[the following is about my cat Philly. i started writing it a week and a half ago when she was very ill, and i am finishing it when she is no longer with us.]
this is Philly (Ophelia), the ball of grey fluff i usually refer to as Baby Bear.
she has been very ill for several weeks, and i have accepted the likelihood that this may be the end for her.
she was part of a litter that had been abandoned by their mother, and only two of the kittens were alive when the animator's parents found them. one of their cats was nursing kittens at the time, and she welcomed the two orphans as her own.
Baby Bear was tiny and underdeveloped right from the beginning. the animator's parents tend to let their cats come and go as they wish, and she would have only gotten lost in that shuffle. knowing that she would require extra special care (and the many trips to the vet that would entail), we figured she might have a better chance with us.
plus... not gonna lie... i took one look at that ball of fluff, and i was in love.
so, just like that, she became our cat. and, seeing how attached she was to her adopted mom, we decided not to split them up. so, Titty (Titania)—aka Mama Kitty, the curmudgeony calico—came to live with us as Baby Bear's plus-one.
we figured at the time that we would do our best to keep Philly comfortable for however long she might end up living.
that was nine years ago.
they would eventually be joined by Cordy (Cordelia), the Little One who destroys things...
and just like that, our furry duo became a trio.
but Philly would always retain the title of "Baby Bear", because she always acted like one. she would also earn the title of "the Jerk"... for much the same reason.
i should point out that this cat was a tiny, little thing when we first got her. the vet made a point of warning us from the start that she was always going to be small, and she was. in adulthood, Philly weighed about four and a half pounds on her heaviest days. do not be fooled by all that fur. she was almost non-existent.
and, oh... the knots and tangles!
despite all that tinyness—or, perhaps, because of it—she was the biggest bully you could ever imagine, and her bullying behavior was always about the same thing. food.
she did not like being kept waiting for her morning meal. if you took too long dividing the contents of a can between the three bowls, you would be hurried along by a few sharp nips to the back of the calves. i am convinced that cat had the sharpest teeth in existence. likewise, if we were taking too long to get out of bed, she would... uhm... motivate us by standing on our heads and nipping at the tip of our noses. her bites never did any real damage. they were just annoying enough to encourage you to hurry along.
no exaggeration... i will spend the rest of my life sleeping with the covers pulled up over my head thanks to years of being traumatized by that ridiculous little cat.
so cute. so cruel.
worst part was, she demanded her morning meal at sunrise, and she would wake us in advance to make sure that it was not late. you know that part of the Summer where the sun comes up at like quarter to five every morning? well, she would usually start waking us at around four-fifteen.
i really miss that ridiculous cat.
the other two cats were also subjected to her bullying tactics. she would shove them around, and literally pull the food out from under their faces. she was such a jerk, the other two would just walk away some days and let her have her fill before coming back to clear up whatever scraps she left behind.
the animator would give them their bowls and let them sort it out, but i always felt compelled to stand there and play cafeteria lunch lady so that the other two could have a chance to eat their meal in peace.
me: i don't understand why they let themselves get pushed around by this little runt. they each weigh more than twice as much as her. they can just give her a good smack and put her in her place.him: easier to just ignore her and let her think she's the boss.me: that only encourages her to keep on being such a jerk.
and she did. she defended that title right up to her last days, even as we were monitoring her every move to see how she was doing.
me: oh! she seems to be eating.him: she's eating?me: yeh. and she just shoved Cordy out of the way to get to that bowl.him: she did?me: yeh. oh... and now she's doing that thing where she grabs the edge of the bowl, and pulls it away from under Titty's face, so i guess she plans to eat from that one too.him: even on the edge of death, she's still a jerk.me: pretty much. at least we know she's feeling good enough today to be eating.
there are some situations in life where being a jerk is a good thing, and this was one of them.
she had been sick quite a few times over the years, and we usually took this return to jerkish form as a sign of improvement. however, the situation was far worse this time around, and a couple days later, she was gone.
we got to spend a lot more time with her than anyone (even the vet) thought would be the case. despite being the smaller of the two that survived from her litter, she outlived the other one by several years, and she was in good health for most of that time, although it felt like an uphill battle at times. we were not even sure if her eyes were functioning properly for the first year or so, and it was an ongoing struggle to keep them (and the rest of her) in working condition in the years to follow. i cannot begin to recount all the gels, pills, ointments, and other vet-prescribed concoctions we have had to administer over the years... or the sideshow of getting her to take them.
to the casual observer, it might seem ridiculous to have two adults tag-team-restraining a four-pound cat, but this one was a jerk who liked to bite.
there has been a sad note hanging over our home this past week, and her absence is pronouncedly evident. she was always in the way, always inviting herself into the midst of anything i tried to do.
she spent so much time hanging around me, i came to think of her as my personal shadow kitty. i still find myself walking gingerly around our home, expecting her to be lurking somewhere near my feet, constantly positioning herself right where i am about to step.
despite being the tiniest biggest jerk on the planet, she is sorely missed.
she was a great companion to Mama Kitty...
and a wonderful playmate and co-conspirator in mischief to the Little One.
she made an art out of photobombing...
and she embraced that stereotype about cats loving boxes as her personal mission in life. i used to think that this box craze was something that all cats did, but she was the only one of the four i have lived with to date who took that particular task quite so seriously.
and it was not just boxes. turns out a basket of freshly-washed laundry is the perfect spot for a bit of bird-watching.
who needs plants in a gro-bag when you can fill that space with adorable furry goodness, right?
most of all, Philly loved being held and snuggled and treated like the Baby Bear she never stopped being. she will be missed very much.
