The Gentle Giant
Since we have no children of our own our four house-pets have been subjected to and get both mothering and smothering by my wife and myself. Becoming pet owners started out the same way for us as it does for a lot of folks. We took in a pet from a family member who could no longer properly care for it. That’s how Rory the cat came to live with us. He was already full grown and despite his pretty orange exterior and fluffy coat, he was a determined and willful cat. Rory did not want to be an indoor pet. He also did not want to be neutered and he did not want to be anybody’s fuzzy wuzzy cuddly baby. He was determined to be free and tried nearly every type of escape known to man (and cat) quite often getting on my sorry nerves. Over time he did learn to adjust to this quiet and comfortable lifestyle, but every once in a while he would sit in the downstairs window and let out a mournful howl, usually at four in the morning. I believe this was a result of his long lost freedom that Mommy and myself had robbed him of and his way of letting us know it..
To keep Rory from dying of boredom we purchased a kitten from a pet store. We did this in hopes that he could have a compatible playmate. Compared to Rory, who by this time was becoming a massive lion, this little black kitten (whom I named India) was just a little sprig. Feisty from her days in the cat orphanage she stood right up to Rory and warned him off with a few hisses. With that he dropped ever so gently onto his back and thrust forward his right paw in offering friendship and trust. His actions seem to say to her “There are no enemies here”. India gave him a good going over and soon the two of them were inseparable. They slept together on the rocking chair or curled up together on the cat bed on the trunk in the hall. The two of them were content with each other’s company and so onward went
our clean, quiet and indoor life.
I believe that everything I ever learned about comfort I learned from a cat. Each one of or pampered pets have enjoyed the luxury of their own personal sunbeams and favourite lounging areas. Slumber was a big part of this existence and one might only life their groggy head long enough to give Daddy a goodbye glance as he left home for work. Rory and India had a glorious two years together until Daddy did the unthinkable, he brought home another half-grown kitten. India was furious not just at me but at Rory and the new cat, Angel. She dissolved any feelings she had for Rory and found comfort at the foot of Daddy and Mommy’s bed. She has resided there ever since. Rory, as with India was a welcoming force to this street-wise and energetic tigress. The two of them bonded right away and a great comradery was formed between them making them inseparable. Why he took to these strangers was something I could never quite figure out but it was satisfactory to him that they came into what was once his sole home and now a shelter for cats and kittens alike. Angel took the opportunity to ingratiate herself into his life and did her best to keep him in line. Quite often she would put the run to him if he were bothering her or might give him a big bath if that’s what she felt he needed at the time. Whatever it was, this little vixen, at half the size of Rory was totally in charge of him and that’s just the way he liked it.
What I didn’t know at the time of Angel’s arrival was that she was sick with feline-leukemia, a deadly and contagious disease. It ultimately took her life. The disease should have been passed onto Rory as he and Angel were so close but it was India who picked up the virus. I was shocked and saddened by both the death of Angel and the repercussions that this disease left behind. Confused as to what to do next I did the necessary research to see if there was indeed anything we could do to prolong India’s life. I was unsure of her fate.
That summer I felt my wife and Rory could use some cheering up so I brought home a kitten from a lady who had lots of them and plunked him on the ironing board in front of my wife. Still hurting from Angel’s passing she was not so receptive to this handsome beige and white kitten with a striped tail and a goatee. It took a while but she came around. I named him Robbie and soon he too was part of our family. Robbie had to live a solitary life in the living room for a couple of weeks until he was old enough for a vaccination against feline-leukemia. During this sequester he amused himself but most certainly had to be curious as to what was on the other side of the door. Daily, Rory would lay on his side at the door and push his paw under and Robbie was able to do the same. This meeting and greeting was a great introduction to the two of them and once again Rory was proof that gentleness came come in all forms and in this case….a gentle giant. After the inoculation the door was open and Robbie soon found his place in our family especially with Rory
whom he came to admire greatly.
As if that wasn’t enough I just had to bring Bette Davis home. Now she is indescribable but I’ll try. This little girl is a fireball who warms our very hearts. At first it seemed like Angel was back among us because she was so much like her in her actions and she too took to the gentle giant. Like her predecessor she also had to live in the living room until she came of age (12 weeks) and this was during the Christmas season so she certainly had lots to occupy her. Her daily routine of paw tag was just like Robbie’s was with Rory but it differed in such a way that it made me chuckle. Every day there would be from Bette, an offering pushed ever so gently under the living room door. A small tree ornament, or a deer from the nativity scene or even a twist tie or two. I couldn’t help but fall in love. Rory did too. All of the others no matter who they were have been made to feel welcome by him. He is accepting of the differences in personalities and to the vast amounts of thumping, biting and scratching involved in forming these relationships. Rory had certainly had to learn to endure and yet, hey! He does it!
So, have you heard enough? I wanted to find a way to present Rory to you so that you could understand the gentleman that he really is and what a valuable part of this household he has become. At fourteen years of age he is more handsome and regal than ever and we couldn’t be happier. He also photographs very well. He has been diagnosed with diabetes and requires daily shots of insulin. We have been criticized for the decision to prolong his life as it can be expensive but hey, what are we if not responsible pet owners That is exactly who we are. Despite many trips to the vet to regulate him and with all the prodding and poking that boy has had to endure, he has proven to one and all that he is a resilient and patient soul and is able to take whatever we dish out. The last time he went to the vet for a day visit he was so ragged looking that it broke my heart. As the vet’s assistant took him into the room for yet another sample I could see the weariness in his eyes. No biting or scratching here, just compliance. At home Mommy tests his blood with the gluco-meter and Rory sits ever so cooperatively on her lap purring, while she does her work. Afterward he goes about his routine as casual as can be. All who know him have come to love him and I am no exception. Now that he seems to be regulated and is noticeably feeling better I can safely say how happy that makes Mommy and me. Robbie and Bette appear to be happy as well and India, well she just couldn’t care less…..but that’s another story.
——————————————————————————————————————————————Epilouge—-There Comes A Time
There comes a time in everyone’s life when they are forced to stop and take a look at where they are, how far they’ve come, and where they are going. I am no exception to this rule.
The last few years of my life have been eventful. I left a full-time position in retail to go back to school, my wife and I purchased our very first home, I survived losing my mother and I, Todd Canton, turned the big 4-0.
These truly are trying times.
Recently, I suffered something more personal than all of the above, a feeling of helplessness. Our house-cat Rory passed away. Rory had battled illness for several years and this time he lost the battle. At just shy of 15 years I must say the cat was truly an inspiration in diligence and perseverence. He fought to the very end. This, I believe, he did because of the bond between him and my wife. She was his best friend and he was her’s. Pet lovers out there know exactly what I am talking about while those who are not, think I am just plain nuts.
Here’s my argument. You can do many things in this life. One can argue about religion, weather, politics and money but no one can offer any concrete explanation for “love”. When Rory came to live with us he was already full grown so it was a little more difficult to attach myself to him. Not so with Sherry. To me he was this independent fellow who had a mind of his own. To her he was an exceptionally handsome and regal feline whose determination was something she admired.
I found his midnight howling irritating but she saw it as him calling out to her. I found his playfulness and gentle nature soothing but she found it down right heartwarming. Rory the cat made my wife smile. This is not an easy feat considering the introvert that she is. For the past 14 years I was able to watch a beautiful friendship unfold before my very eyes and to also experience true adoration at work within the four walls of my home. The two of them genuinely loved each other. I was just the innocent bystander.
In 2000 he was diagnosed with diabetes and if we were to prolong his life then a few things had to change. My diligent wife researched the disease with a fiery sense of responsibility and before long had that boy regulated. Daily, diligently, she would test his blood, monitor his food intake, and make sure that the cat was properly attended to. If this meant getting up in the middle of the night then she did so, not one night but everyone for the next year. This she did without complaint, at least without a lot of complaining. By the time she was done, no one, and I mean no one, not even the vet, knew as much about diabetes in cats than Sherry Canton did. The whole Veterinary Hospital staff was in awe of her. I had always admired her but this just reaffirmed my immense respect for this quiet and unassuming partner in my life.
Strangely enough, it was not the diabetes that killed him. It was Cancer. Before Christmas we noticed a bump on his back near his spine. The doctor thought it best to remove it immediately and warned us that there are some nasty tumours out there. He had one of the worst. This particular tumour was a fibro-sarcoma that almost certainly would be back. The next one came in his gut. Not one to give up easily we travelled to the University of Prince Edward Island to the experts to see if they could save him. They could not. This was all at great expense to us, not monetary, rather the emotional kind. Hence, the helplessness. There was not a single thing I could do for that sad girl. Of course I supported her and did anything she asked but what could I offer a heart that was genuinely breaking?
The last time we saw Rory alive he looked like hell. He had been put through the proverbial wringer, shaved all over and weary from the ordeal. He was being prepared for surgery and being the gentle soul that he was he did what was asked of him. Not a biting or scratching cat the strangers at UPEI fell in love with him. As he went into surgery we wanted to go home and return another day to pick him up. As we were leaving Sherry held him and kissed him goodbye. All he did was purr. When it was my turn I took the opportunity to tell him that he never was my favourite, I was jealous of him and Mommy and that he looked like the wrath of God sitting there in that cage. All he did during this time was head butt me and purred so loud that I couldn’t help but think about those parents who have ever had to sit in a hospital with a child that might very well die. He was our child.
As we tried to depart the Island we had car trouble. We found a dealership that could repair the car and unfortunately while we were there, the call came on our cell phone that he was gone. Again, helpless.
We returned home empty and alone. This time there was no one at the top of the stairs to greet us like so many times before. Our Gentle Giant was gone.
At the top of our stairs today hangs a framed photo that Sherry took of Rory before Christmas. In the picture he is basking in the sunlight. He truly looks content. In his own very orange way he really is strikingly handsome and the photograph itself is comfortable looking, just like the sunbeam. Fourteen years is a long time to get to know someone, to get to know their spirit and to allow that spirit to grow and flourish within the walls of your home and your heart. Goodbye, my handsome boy, I love you Sherry, I love you more.-
Todd Canton
Rory Canton/the Gentle Giant
| Rory Canton |
| Todd Canton |