His purrins and humpins up are done
My babba Ru died early this morning. He’d been doing poorly since I took him to the vet on Tuesday for a stuffed up nose. His back legs quit working well and he quit eating and drinking. I think he was ready.
Before I went to bed about 1 am I petted him and told him that if he was ready to go, it was okay. He didn’t have to hang around for me. We had 18 years together and that’s longer than many folks get with their kittehs. By the time I got up at 7 am, he was gone, lying peacefully on the living room floor.
I got him as a kitten from my grandfather’s farm. He was one of a family with a non-branching tree. He grew up to be a thick necked mutt of a farm cat.
My ex husband and I lived for a few months with my mother. During that time, Ru hated my mother. I think she smelled too much like her cat and I think he also could sense that she wasn’t happy to have him in her house. Mom has never been a housecat person. She’s always had cats that were indoor-outdoor, but mostly outdoors. Ru ended up biting through her hand in the webbing between thumb and index finger. She got a doctor bill and he got neutered ad tagged with the nickname of Demon Spawn – yeah, Mom really didn’t like him. He was right at about a year old. After that, he was the biggest mama’s boy you ever saw.
He knew when I was sad and he’d come and sit with me. He loved to sleep on my chest at night. He’d purr and I’d drift off with a 17 pound weight on top of me. When he went through a bout of not eating several years back and he lost a lot of weight, I missed that comforting heaviness. In the last 3 months he’d gone from 10 pounds to 7. He weighed barely anything. I’m used to cats that are heavy and solid. He was featherlight the last few months.
Anyway, he’s gone and I’m sad, but it was the best end that could be expected and he brightened my life for a long time.
I can’t remember what the name of this poem is, nor who the author is. We read it from an ancient little book of poems back when I was a child and certain passages have stuck in my head. Rather than the Rainbow Bridge poem (“rainbow bridge” to a D&D player means Bifrost and Vikings and Valhalla, not dead pets) that gets passed around, Mom & I quote this to each other when our kitties die. The whole poem is about a child who finds a dead cat. The whole thing is even more pathetic and tear inducing than these few lines.
I is strokin’ you’s fur but you don’t never purr nor humps up anywhere, little cat,
Why is dat?
Is you purrins and humpins up done?
I is wet in my eyes coz I most allus cries
When a pussy cat dies
And I’s awfully solly besides.