“Our Gentle Giant”
Two days before Halloween, in 1997, as I was walking to lunch with a group of teachers we noticed two little black kittens darting in and out of heavy traffic on one of L.A.’s busiest streets. When their mother did not show up to claim her kittens it became obvious that these two kitties, who fit into the palm of my hand, were abandoned. After taking them to the vet and finding out they were near death and extremely anemic from being covered from head to tail with fleas, my husband and I decided
to adopt these two brothers.
They reminded us of the odd couple so we named them Oscar and Felix. Felix was the larger of the two, but very gentle and quiet. He loved being stroked under the chin, brushed with long gentle strokes on his back, and scratched on his rump. While he never wanted to wander farther than the balcony patio area (I think he thought that black flap in the door was like a black hole that he did not want to venture through, his two favorite places were in front of the fireplace and on a padded expanded window ledge. He loved sitting in the sun watching bugs and birds fly by and squirrels climb up and down the trees.
While Felix was gentle and quiet during the day, when it was time for bed, he had the best and loudest purring machine I have ever heard. It was music to my ears and better than any sleep tape available on the market.
Felix and his brother, Oscar) were inseparable and always insisted on traveling together in the same carrier until it became impossible to carry.
If one ever had to go to the vet without the other they both howled until they were reunited. When they did have to travel in separate carriers they insisted on facing each other so they could talk back-and-forth to each other. When Felix wasn’t stretched out on the window ledge he could be found snuggling up to his brother Oscar near the fire or on the bed.
When Oscar became ill Felix stayed near him up until the last day. On that day Felix refused to go near his brother and hissed and cried all night. Oscar’s death hit us all hard; he was only six years old (much too young to die from chronic renal failure – but it happened).
Felix was lost without his brother and for months wouldn’t let me leave a room without running after me. At night he called out for his brother, perhaps feeling his spirit throughout the house (or so we would like to believe). A few months after Oscar crossed the rainbow bridge another small black kitty entered our lives (and hopefully to fill some of the void and loneliness Felix was still feeling). At first Felix refused to bond with Willy but when Willy jumped off the balcony and ran off for 21 days, it was Felix who guided Willy home calling him in an ever so similar way that he used to cry out for his brother Oscar.
Recently, Felix even accepted two baby kittens and the role of Gramps. He was a wonderful mentor and teacher, sharing his best spaces with the kittens and showing everyone how a “proper” kitty behaves. Even on his last day with us, suffering from end stage liver cancer, he refused to relieve himself over the floor or blankets and somehow managed to make it to the litter box even though every step had to have been excruciating.
Felix’s ashes will be placed along side Oscar’s above the fireplace so they can still share one of their favorite places together and feel the warmth of our everlasting love. We miss you dearly and love you eternally Felix!
Sleep peacefully our gentle giant –