May 7 2001
Maine Coon Cat
We first met Oliver when he was a homeless and quite pathetic
cat who lived in the fields near a gas station. His fur was matted and
stained with the diesel fuel that was near the bowl of water the attendants
gave him.(thankfully). He was really a sight-but a sweetheart-When we
brought him some canned tuna and a bowl with clean water well he couldn’t
believe his luck. He was such a gentle kitty that even though he was
starved he allowed us to stroke him and talk to him while he ate. I
already had two cats so asked around to try to find him a home. No
takers-not even the local shelters.
For the warm months of summer I continued to visit Oliver with my
boyfriend Rick. I fed him in the morning on my way to work and in the
evening. We waited until the gas station closed down so that he could be
with us and enjoy his dinner.
On two occasions,he was picked up and adopted yet both times found his
way back to the gas station. He was obviously waiting for my daughter,
Gena. When Gena met him it was love at first sight. He was obviously
waiting just for her.
We actually thought he was a “she” and Gena was going to call him either
Eliza Doolittle or Anasthasia. Much to our surprise he was an “Oliver.”-A
real Oliver Twist.
Once cleaned up and taken to the vet we found out that he was indeed a
little prince a Maine Coon.
Oliver never left Gena’s side from the moment he came to her home. He
threw away his little “Hobo” outfit and came out in a smoking jacket and
ascot!! He jumped into her bed to sleep with her and remained her little
protector throughout an occasional bee spiders moths and a bout of mice
in the winter-poor little things Oliver caught them and even brought one,
dead into her bed in the middle of the night to show how much he loved her.
Wherever Gena went so did Oliver follow.
It did not matter who came to see Gena. Oliver would come right over to
the new visitor as if to say “hi-my name is Oliver-what is yours??”
Monday morning after awaking Gena with love pats and playing with his
toys Oliver quietly laid down and passed away. Gena was devastated and
called me hysterically. The vet said he had suffered a heart attack-common
in his breed-at only three years old. We are thankful that he had such a
wonderful short life with Gena-She loved him and cared for him in a most
wonderful way-and he returned all of this to her with the most incredible
affection and warmth imaginable. She always said he was a part dog and part
cat-a “cog”.
We hope you are happy and at peace dear Oliver.
We will love you forever.
Linda J.
| Oliver |