Back in 2000, sisters Bee Gee and Tchai were paid an unexpected visit by a cat none of us had ever seen before. He was a handsome fella, with long whiskers sprouting out of his slightly pug-like face, a white breast, and a watered down tabby colouring. His petite yet full and muscular figure gave us the impression that he had been well cared for, but he did not have a collar, and he had a forlorn air about him that made us wonder.
|Mr. Kitty meditating. Ommmm.|
Days went by, and his visits became ever more frequent, while his appearance grew more and more disheveled. We eventually came to the conclusion that he had been abandoned. To help him through the cold Canadian winter that was near approaching, we put a cat box outside with sheets of warm bedding, along with bowls full of food. Sadly, we could not take him in, not even on the days when temperatures hit -25oC, because of Bee Gee and Tchai's extremely territorial nature.
Mr. Kitty, as we eventually came to call him for his gentlemanly like manner, survived two years with our family in this way. He would play with us in the summer, snuggle up on our laps as we drank our cups of tea outside in the autumn, and fight his way through the winter, even facing off with a massive grey bully of a tom who tried more than once to steal his food and box.
Then one day, he failed to show up for his daily feeding. Tchai and Bee Gee couldn't have been happier, but it was one of the sadder days in our family's history. He had been less active and looking slightly worse for wear over the past couple of weeks. Not once in all the days we had known him had he skipped a meal. We knew he was gone for good.
This post is in memoriam to one of the sweetest cats we have ever known. If circumstances had been different, we would have taken him in. However, it comforts us to know that he passed his last two years a happy and peaceful cat surrounded by a family that adored him.
|Mr. Kitty and Bee Gee observe each other through the window (Toronto, 2000)|