- Joined
- Jan 11, 2015
- Messages
- 59
- Purraise
- 72
I've always loved cats and had the most beautiful black cat when I was growing up. She was a stray that came roaming up our road with no collar, and after giving her some food and water, she stayed. We didn't know her name and at the time, being only five years of age, I decided to call her Pussy. She was the most affectionate cat I've ever known, and often slept in my bed or sat on my lap, I loved her dearly.
She had the run of the house and garden. All the neighbours gardens backed onto each other and many of them also had a cat, so there would be occasional fights between them. Pussy was so gentle, I'd hate it when she came home limping or bleeding. One time she had her ear ripped and it scarred her for life. At the time, even though there were obvious dangers, keeping her inside full time wasn't even thought about. To be honest, she spent most of her time indoors anyway, preferring to be snuggled up in front of the fire or purring on my lap. We fed her wet canned food, never dry food and when mum was preparing fresh fish or meat then she would also get thrown bits of that which she used to love. Every couple of months she would bring a bird home that was half dead and place it at the door, all proud of herself. That used to freak me out because often they were semi chewed and I couldn't bare to touch them. Mum would put them out of their misery and dispose of them.
It was hard to know how old she was exactly because we didn't have her from a kitten but the vet estimated she was about 17 when she started to get sick. She started to lose her appetite and lost weight. Her hair thinned out and she started to become less mobile. She would vomit a couple of times a week and I remember one time, she fell off my lap and had a violent fit on the floor. We looked down in shock as she endured uncontrollable spasms whilst spraying urine everywhere. It was so distressing to see her like that. We used to have to take her to the vets every week and crush up tablets into her food daily. She gradually became more and more ill with cancer.
One morning I woke up and she wasn't on my bed. I looked around the house for her and she was nowhere to be found. I called her name which she always came to... "Pussy"... "Pusssssssy"... and she didn't come. I knew something was wrong. Later that day mum tried to tell me that cats sometimes go and find somewhere quiet to die and that she was very sick, and that I should accept that she is in a happy place now and feeling no pain. I refused to believe she was dead.
I taped up notices all over the neighbourhood with a photograph of her, a description, her name and our phone number. I remember putting the notices in plastic sleeves, so the rain didn't destroy them. I knocked on neighbours doors and asked them to look in their sheds but nobody had seen her. Every night I prayed she would come home to me. I was heart broken.
Seeing how upset I was, mum decided to get me a new cat, so two weeks later we adopted a male cat called Smudge from an animal welfare centre. He was thrown out of a moving car in a plastic bag several months earlier and had been severely injured as a result. The poor boy needed a good home. Because of his terrible experience he was extremely frightened of people and wouldn't come anywhere near me. Any time I tried to stroke him he would run away, and he spent most of his time outside or hiding under the bed. Meanwhile, I still didn't fully believe or accept that Pussy was dead, but time went on and Smudge still hated me.
Then one day the door bell rang. The newspaper boy was stood there with a startled look on his face. He told me that he had seen Pussy at the top of the road, he was sure it was her and that I need to go and get her. I was so excited, and ran inside to tell mum what he had said. By now, a month had passed since she had gone missing so mum didn't believe it. She was sure it was a different black cat and told me that Pussy wouldn't have survived a whole month without her medication. I didn't care, I had to check. After running to the top of the road I stopped and looked in disappointment as I couldn't see a cat anywhere. I begun calling her name... "Pussy"... "Pussssssssssy"... I used to sing her name at a certain tone and she always came to it. I was about to turn around and come home when I could see a shadow moving under a car. Slowly the shadow turned into a cat. A black cat. It was Pussy. She was desperately thin and bony, she had difficulty walking towards me, and sadly she could hardly even meow but I knew it was her and she knew it was me. Tears burst out my eyes and rolled down my face as I ran over to her. She was at deaths door. It was so overwhelming, even talking about it now I get emotional.
Mum couldn't believe it. I've never seen her so shocked in all my life as when I came home with Pussy in my arms. The fact that she had survived all this time was astounding. She truly was an amazing cat, I was so happy she was home and that I had found her. Unfortunately that happiness was short lived as the next morning mum told me that she had died peacefully in her sleep. Even though I was obviously upset, I acceptance of her death was much easier than when she was missing. When she was missing, it was terrible. Constantly wondering where she is and if she's ok. But now that she had died in her sleep and I knew what had happened to her, I felt at peace with that. We had a burial for her and mum told me she must have been waiting for me to find her at the top of the road, so she could say goodbye. Smudge moved away with my parents up North when I was 17 and I haven't owned a cat since.
I clung onto that memory until some 15 years later when mum was talking to my best friend about this exact story and how it was such a shame she had to have Pussy put down. I was shocked! Put down? I always thought she had died in her sleep. Well, that's what mum told me at the time, and I guess I can see why. That cat was so important to me and I will never forget her. I still wonder how she got out the front of the house and up the road, to my knowledge she had only ever been out the back and always stayed close by. She had obviously lost her direction and couldn't find her way home. To get to where I found her she would have had to jump over 20 garden walls and fences, I still don't know how she managed it. She must have been so lonely and afraid.
Since Pussy, I've always wanted another cat and am finally getting a Ragdoll kitten soon. I've already called him Harley. One of the many reasons I wanted a Ragdoll is because they are an indoor cat and I wouldn't feel guilty about keeping him inside only. I couldn't bare to go through a lost cat situation again. I've got another 3 weeks until I pick Harley up, so I plan to be fully prepared and want to look after Harley the best I can. Harley is going to be a big part of my life and I want to make the right decisions regarding his health and happiness. Although I'm reading a lot of information on the subject, anyone with sound advice on bringing home a kitten, or the Ragdoll breed in particular, then I'm eager to hear it. There are a lot of conflicting articles and opinions out there, especially about feeding raw food, so it can be quite confusing.
Thanks for reading Pussy's story and I wish you and your feline friends happiness and good health.
She had the run of the house and garden. All the neighbours gardens backed onto each other and many of them also had a cat, so there would be occasional fights between them. Pussy was so gentle, I'd hate it when she came home limping or bleeding. One time she had her ear ripped and it scarred her for life. At the time, even though there were obvious dangers, keeping her inside full time wasn't even thought about. To be honest, she spent most of her time indoors anyway, preferring to be snuggled up in front of the fire or purring on my lap. We fed her wet canned food, never dry food and when mum was preparing fresh fish or meat then she would also get thrown bits of that which she used to love. Every couple of months she would bring a bird home that was half dead and place it at the door, all proud of herself. That used to freak me out because often they were semi chewed and I couldn't bare to touch them. Mum would put them out of their misery and dispose of them.
It was hard to know how old she was exactly because we didn't have her from a kitten but the vet estimated she was about 17 when she started to get sick. She started to lose her appetite and lost weight. Her hair thinned out and she started to become less mobile. She would vomit a couple of times a week and I remember one time, she fell off my lap and had a violent fit on the floor. We looked down in shock as she endured uncontrollable spasms whilst spraying urine everywhere. It was so distressing to see her like that. We used to have to take her to the vets every week and crush up tablets into her food daily. She gradually became more and more ill with cancer.
One morning I woke up and she wasn't on my bed. I looked around the house for her and she was nowhere to be found. I called her name which she always came to... "Pussy"... "Pusssssssy"... and she didn't come. I knew something was wrong. Later that day mum tried to tell me that cats sometimes go and find somewhere quiet to die and that she was very sick, and that I should accept that she is in a happy place now and feeling no pain. I refused to believe she was dead.
I taped up notices all over the neighbourhood with a photograph of her, a description, her name and our phone number. I remember putting the notices in plastic sleeves, so the rain didn't destroy them. I knocked on neighbours doors and asked them to look in their sheds but nobody had seen her. Every night I prayed she would come home to me. I was heart broken.
Seeing how upset I was, mum decided to get me a new cat, so two weeks later we adopted a male cat called Smudge from an animal welfare centre. He was thrown out of a moving car in a plastic bag several months earlier and had been severely injured as a result. The poor boy needed a good home. Because of his terrible experience he was extremely frightened of people and wouldn't come anywhere near me. Any time I tried to stroke him he would run away, and he spent most of his time outside or hiding under the bed. Meanwhile, I still didn't fully believe or accept that Pussy was dead, but time went on and Smudge still hated me.
Then one day the door bell rang. The newspaper boy was stood there with a startled look on his face. He told me that he had seen Pussy at the top of the road, he was sure it was her and that I need to go and get her. I was so excited, and ran inside to tell mum what he had said. By now, a month had passed since she had gone missing so mum didn't believe it. She was sure it was a different black cat and told me that Pussy wouldn't have survived a whole month without her medication. I didn't care, I had to check. After running to the top of the road I stopped and looked in disappointment as I couldn't see a cat anywhere. I begun calling her name... "Pussy"... "Pussssssssssy"... I used to sing her name at a certain tone and she always came to it. I was about to turn around and come home when I could see a shadow moving under a car. Slowly the shadow turned into a cat. A black cat. It was Pussy. She was desperately thin and bony, she had difficulty walking towards me, and sadly she could hardly even meow but I knew it was her and she knew it was me. Tears burst out my eyes and rolled down my face as I ran over to her. She was at deaths door. It was so overwhelming, even talking about it now I get emotional.
Mum couldn't believe it. I've never seen her so shocked in all my life as when I came home with Pussy in my arms. The fact that she had survived all this time was astounding. She truly was an amazing cat, I was so happy she was home and that I had found her. Unfortunately that happiness was short lived as the next morning mum told me that she had died peacefully in her sleep. Even though I was obviously upset, I acceptance of her death was much easier than when she was missing. When she was missing, it was terrible. Constantly wondering where she is and if she's ok. But now that she had died in her sleep and I knew what had happened to her, I felt at peace with that. We had a burial for her and mum told me she must have been waiting for me to find her at the top of the road, so she could say goodbye. Smudge moved away with my parents up North when I was 17 and I haven't owned a cat since.
I clung onto that memory until some 15 years later when mum was talking to my best friend about this exact story and how it was such a shame she had to have Pussy put down. I was shocked! Put down? I always thought she had died in her sleep. Well, that's what mum told me at the time, and I guess I can see why. That cat was so important to me and I will never forget her. I still wonder how she got out the front of the house and up the road, to my knowledge she had only ever been out the back and always stayed close by. She had obviously lost her direction and couldn't find her way home. To get to where I found her she would have had to jump over 20 garden walls and fences, I still don't know how she managed it. She must have been so lonely and afraid.
Since Pussy, I've always wanted another cat and am finally getting a Ragdoll kitten soon. I've already called him Harley. One of the many reasons I wanted a Ragdoll is because they are an indoor cat and I wouldn't feel guilty about keeping him inside only. I couldn't bare to go through a lost cat situation again. I've got another 3 weeks until I pick Harley up, so I plan to be fully prepared and want to look after Harley the best I can. Harley is going to be a big part of my life and I want to make the right decisions regarding his health and happiness. Although I'm reading a lot of information on the subject, anyone with sound advice on bringing home a kitten, or the Ragdoll breed in particular, then I'm eager to hear it. There are a lot of conflicting articles and opinions out there, especially about feeding raw food, so it can be quite confusing.
Thanks for reading Pussy's story and I wish you and your feline friends happiness and good health.
