Ever since I left home my household has always included at least one cat. They have come in all shapes and sizes and ferocity and cunning and clever and downright stupid.
In 1998 we rehoused an adult tom that somone else had named Adam. He was a big cat even then and soon aquired a second name of "Pogo". When I was dishing out food to our colony of cats, many of whoom were his sons and daughters, Adam was like a cat on a pogo stick bouncing up and down trying to grab the food. Several times I collected scratches and scrams as he tried to get the food before I could get it out of the tin.
He lived inside the house, regardless of what any human thought, he knew he did. No one ever let him in he was just there. He did need to be outside some times and he would just go and sit looking meaningfully at the door or window.
He would crouch against the outside of the front door tight against it so you would not notice he was there until you opened the door and in one huge bound he would be in and gone. you would see something vaguely black fly past and off up the stairs.
His other name was "pirate" cooking anything required a detailed check of the kitchen first, to see if he was lurking somewhere. Even then that was no guarantee: there he is just before our Xmas dinner - poised to go in for the kill. Pretending not to be there, 100 % focused on the meat that has his name on it.....
Sitting at the table this head would appear somewhere, green eyes looking at the layout and spying out his chances. not the whole head of course, just two steely green eyes and alert ears, the rest of him hidden, the head would go down and pop up somewhere else close enough to that unsupervised plate to strike.
Giving some of the other cats treats is easy, Deimund will delicately take the proffered titbit from your hand. Adam, would take a lightening lunge with a real chance he might take your fingers as well.
Gwion and him were firm friends he often went to Gwions room to spend the night.
A great big muscular cat, when the vet prescribed tablets for him I recoiled in horror. Giving Adam pills was going to cost limbs never mind fingers. Showing standard cat contrariness, Adam liked his pills!!!
The years didn't really seem to touch him, his back legs got a bit arthritic sometimes but last week he spent a while with me chasing and catching a lump of string. These were high risk games though as Adam didn't really believe in taking prisoners, anything moving was a legitimate target..
He'd been a bit out of sorts for a couple of days. But yesterday I was commenting to Bethan how sleek and shiny his coat was, how alert he was and how bright his eyes, not looking like an elderly cat at all.
Then this morning, he went out to be fed with the others, all seemed well in his world. I was going out the front door, checked through the glass, sure enough there was that familiar black and white face looking at me. It's damn cold, so I let him in and he made for his familiar upstairs haunts. Then he just seemed to trip or slip, fell on his side twitched and writhed, gave a few pathetic mews and he was gone.
In a way I am happy, I have seen a few cats die, fall ill and linger for days getting weaker and less happy.
For Adam it was all over in moments, whatever took him he died a he lived lean, mean and decisive.
I just went upstairs noting the vague dark shape on my bed "damn cat" I thought, but it wasn't it was a T shirt.
Feeding time tonight was odd, no huge cat bouncing off the floor and racing round cramming in as much food as he could grab. Everything was a lot calmer and quieter, there was a big gap where a cat who was big in every way had been.
Poor old Adam - what a cat, going to miss you mate.
R
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment