One Baccarat glass candle holder, found at a yard sale. One antique plate. Several lesser items.
Thousands of dollars in food, litter, vaccines, and, lately, veterinarians.
Your glee at being released from the cage, your home for the first four months of your life.
Your circus acts on the stair banister.
The embarrassment of watching you hump your teddy bear in front of company.
Nights disturbed by piercing yowls.
(The male vet: He's neutered, not dead.)
Countless cleanings of your upchucks from floors, rugs, upholstered furniture.
You frightened my housemates, intimidated my friends, discouraged the vet, persecuted the dogs.
So demanding, so oblivious to the wants of others.
Sending Maxine to the emergency room with a bitten, swelling hand. But still she loved you.
Full of teeth and growls and purrs and insistent demands for affection.
Staking out Abigail as yours, only yours, and defending your territory with deep-in-the-throat warnings.
Your fondness for women, your passion for men.
Stalking the contractors during renovation, earning the title: The Inspector.
Plush, handsome, fearless, huge orange cat, you've become a thin hank of scruffy fur.
For weeks, you wanted me to hold you, just hold you still against my breasts. Now, you want not even that.
You're hungry, but you will not eat. You vanish in the pillows.
For you, it's time.
You bully, you inconstant friend, you gorgeous, fierce and lovely cat.
For me, time comes too soon, too slow, too sudden. Not yet, I say. Not just yet.
I see you bend, stiff, around your pain. Jumping becomes more and more difficult.
Soon.
Tomorrow.
UPDATE Friday 25 July: Spike and I are still in denial. With the vet's approval, we are giving each other a few more days. I do realize this is a temporary postponement.
He has rallied somewhat, is eating (drinking) evaporated milk and chicken broth. He is purring again. He is asking for my lap again.
And he has it.
Some Rights Reserved
I'm so sorry.
Posted by: Meridith | 22 July 2008 at 01:49 PM
Oh no! Sorry to hear about this, will be thinking of you tomorrow.
Posted by: Cathy | 22 July 2008 at 06:34 PM
I'm so sorry...
Posted by: bobbi | 22 July 2008 at 10:32 PM
a remarkable critter to hold in your heart forever...
Posted by: jenett | 23 July 2008 at 06:54 AM
What a wonderful tribute to an old friend, and I'm sorry you have to part now.
Posted by: Shelley | 23 July 2008 at 03:27 PM
That's a beautiful tribute to Spike. We're sorry he has to go to the rainbow Bridge. Purrrrrrs for all of you.
Posted by: HotMBC | 23 July 2008 at 06:57 PM
I'm so glad you get a little more time together.
Posted by: Patia | 25 July 2008 at 01:55 PM
Spike, consuming himself from within, collapsing like a tent with a sinking centerpole, eyes closing from their smoking wicks, and yet an ember burns on in his head or heart. Tiger, tiger, sinking light, going into quiet night.
Prairie Mary
Posted by: Mary Scriver | 25 July 2008 at 04:36 PM
I like what you have written here, prairie mary.
Posted by: niki | 25 July 2008 at 04:48 PM
We are sorry Spike has to go!
It's hard to leave and it's even harder to let go.
purrrrrs and love to you all!
Posted by: Kashim & Othello | 26 July 2008 at 02:41 PM
We are so sorry to hear about Spike.
That is a lovely tribute in words and photos for him. And we're glad you get to spend a little more time together.
Sending our thoughts and purrs.
Posted by: CatSynth (Amar and Luna) | 27 July 2008 at 04:34 PM
I'm sorry I didn't read this sooner. Spike sounds so much like Bonnie, who left us at the end of May. The tough ones, the bullies, the lions in the living room, leave a deep impression. What is it about the grumpy ones? Lovable curmudgeons.
My thoughts are with you.
Posted by: Victor Tabbycat's Mom | 16 August 2008 at 06:38 PM