April 1989 — Dec. 8 2001
How I found you. I was taking a walk after a summer storm.
I heard a mew from the bushes in front of the empty house next door.
There was little black kitten 6-8 weeks old soaked to the skin.
I took you home bathed and dried you.
You waited in the sleeping porch for Dad to come home.
“Look what I found” I said as you peered through the window into
the living room. I was allergic to cats but I magically got over them
when you entered our lives.
Your first meeting with Whimper. You hissed at him he nipped your ear,
and you were best buds from then on.
The time you got stuck in the tree. When you were still a baby,
we let you go outside because we lived in a quiet town.
I called you in and you didn’t come. We heard you mewing.
Dad had to use a ladder to get you out of the tree.
When you came home with a wound on your leg.
You were about 9 months old and had a huge gash on your leg.
We had it repaired and you neutered. You became an indoor
kitty after that.
How you used to watch TV as a kitten.
You were fascinated with the movie “The Little Mermaid”
and watched the whole thing with me.
The first Christmas I had you when you would remove the garland
and ornaments from my little tabletop tree and strew it throughout
the house every night.
How you came by your name of “Mr. Pibb”.
You were a Pain in the Butt. Always into something.
I added the extra B and the Mr. after the soft drink.
How you used to like to play with my watch and knock pens
screwdrivers etc off of surfaces to watch them fall to the floor.
To this day I put my watch away as soon as I take it off.
How your black fur would get a reddish cast from sunning
on the screen porch.
How vocal you always were. I could hold conversations with you.
You could meow words. “Mom” “hi” “I want” or if you had
finished dinner and were still hungry “I want more”.
When Mom and Millie came home from her first obedience class
and Dad asked if Millie had homework you very clearly
meowed “homework”. Even Dad understood you.
How you comforted me when Whimper died.
I don’t know what I would have done without you then.
You punctured the water bed the day we brought Millie home.
You were so scared of her at first.
After a week you were friends.
That you weighed 12 pounds at your healthiest and
only 4 pounds when you died.
The first time you lost weight several years ago. Dad and I noticed how
skinny you were suddenly. Your vet at the time ran every test imaginable
and they were all negative. You gained most of the weight back.
I wonder if that was the start of the CRF.
Your favorite game was “bed toss”. Dad would throw you in the air
to land on the bed. You would run right back to him for more.
How much you liked to help me make the bed.
You were always right there under the covers as I pulled them up.
How you would crawl under the comforter when you were cold.
How much you liked hair.
You would get behind someone on the couch or Mom or Dad in bed
rub and chew on their hair purring the whole time.
That you were always purring even when you were ill.
Such a happy kitty.
That you loved to be carried around. I could hold you all day
if you wanted.
That you used to sleep on the pillow above my head.
That you loved to scratch cardboard and loved playing in paper bags.
One of the funniest things you ever did. It was Xmas of 1999
and Puddy was in a box. You walked past the box not knowing she
was there until she growled at you.
You turned around got up on your back legs reached in the box
and swatted her several times.
Your dad and I howled with laughter.
How you used to greet us at the door after we moved to our current home.
We started calling you “the doorman”.
You would greet us with a meow and a tail held high.
I first realized you were sick when you greeted us at the door after
a weekend away but said nothing. You had lost weight again.
I knew the silence meant you were ill.
You were diagnosed with CRF that same week in May 2000.
How you would announce yourself as you jumped on the bed with
a happy little meow and squeak when you jumped down
When you escaped from the house shortly after we moved here.
I had been visiting friends in Orlando. I came home and you were gone.
You had gotten out and Dad didn’t know it.
I was furious beyond words. I thought for sure you had tried to
get back to Orlando and had been hit by a car.
You showed up in the neighbor’s driveway later that evening.
I had never been so happy to see you.
The last time I saw you truly truly happy.
On Labor Day 2001 we had a new fridge delivered.
I had forgotten to close the sliding glass doors and realized
you were out. I got the bag of cat treats and shook them as I called you name.
You came running from the neighbor’s yard with the highest tail in the world,
a smile on your face and an “I’m right here Mom” meow for me.
That must have been the greatest adventure ever for you.
I am so sorry I couldn’t let you enjoy the outdoors more.
My last good memory of you another funny thing.
I was eating leftover spaghetti for lunch.
You got on the table and before I could stop you grabbed a mouthful
of spaghetti and ate it.
That was Wed Dec. 5. You were gone by the 8th.
What a good boy you always were at the vet and getting fluids etc.
You had such a wonderful personality and were so easy going.
You got grumpy sometimes but I rarely had a problem
giving you fluids.
The many times you were ill and hospitalized and Mom thought she
would lose you. You always managed to rally back to relative health
and come home again.
That your favorite perch became the windowsill in the office the
last few months of your life. You could catch the sun there and
watch the birds squirrels lizards and neighbors.
You would often lie on my desk as I worked.
Dad hated it when you did that but I loved it.
You kept me company.
The way you looked around as we drove to the emergency clinic
for the last time. I held you in a towel. You had never been in the car
without the carrier before. Although you were so ill you could barely
hold your head up you managed to enjoy the view on that
beautiful horrible day.
How much everyone loved you.
All who met you loved you and you were a favorite at
the vet’s office.
How much you will be missed.
Life will never be the same without my dear boy.
You were truly one in a million.
There will never be a cat quite like you.