My Feline Friends

Tommy quickly became part of the family. He reigned over our home and everything in it. I felt bad about leaving him home alone in the evenings and on weekends, so I would slip him into a harness, attach a long rope and off we’d go to soccer practice, or a picnic. He enjoyed these outings immensely. However, he was terribly lonely when we were all at work/school during the day, and he cried for company.

I mentioned this state of affairs to my friend, the lady who had rescued Tommy and his litter from her garage. One day she called to tell me she had found him a feline friend. A family in her neighbourhood was going to surrender their 2 year old calico to a shelter due to cat allergies. I was able to step in, and give the cat a home, so that she was spared that fate. And that is how Missy came to live with us.

Tommy and Missy had completely different personalities, yet they were good company for one another. Tommy no longer cried when we went out, he was once again a happy boy. (Go here for part 1)

I remember the day we brought him home. Almost immediately he tried to make friends with Milo, our older cat. Milo did not reciprocate, however, and after being spurned a couple of times, Thomas retreated behind the couch. His curiosity and indomitable spirit would eventually get the better of him, and after some coaxing Thomas submitted to the shelter of my arms. It was then, while petting him that I first heard him purr. Steady and strong, like a little motor, it was the loudest purr I’d ever heard By the end of the first day he was scooting up and down the stairs, with joyful glee. Yes, Thomas was home, and he had won my heart right away.

He was a beautiful cat, a mackerel tabby, as you can see by the “m” on his forehead. His black fur glistened in the sun, and when he walked you could observe the target shaped markings on his side. When you looked at Tom from overhead, a very unique characteristic could be seen. The markings on his back, between his shoulder blades formed the shape of a cross.

Tom was a happy kitten who loved to run, climb, and play. There was a time when he would even fetch a stick like a little dog. Another unique game he would play was with beads. He would pick up a child-sized bead by cupping his paw, and then drop it so that it would bounce on the floor. He would then try to catch the bead with his paw, and repeat the process.

Tommy never jumped off of the balcony; however he loved to walk the rail. He would parade proudly back and forth across the top bar, as if making a declaration to the world that this home was his territory. (We were on the lower floor, so that in the event of a fall he would have landed safely.)

As he matured, Tommy loved to jump. Dressers, countertops, tables, bookshelves, any flat surface was game to him. I cleared a space for him on top of the 6 foot high bookshelf in the bedroom. He would jump from bed to dresser to bookshelf, where he spent many hours napping, or contentedly surveying life from his perch.

(Go here for part 2)

It’s been almost 3 months since I lost my Tommy. It seems that whenever I think I’m over him something will remind me and my tears start again. He was more than a cat to me. When I looked in Tommy’s eyes it was as if I saw a person in there. There seemed to be so much wisdom and understanding in his gaze. I’ve lived with other cats, but this one was special, there was such a loving bond between us.

What really hurt was that Tommy was taken from me at such a young age. He was only 7 years old. I thought that we would grow old together, but it was not meant to be. Other than the occasional vomiting, he hadn’t been sick a day in his life. Even when money was tight, I never missed his yearly vet checkup and shots, and I fed him the best quality food I could afford. Tom’s coat was beautiful and shiny; he loved to eat olive oil and fish oil.

It is somewhat consoling to know that although his span of life was shortened, that Tom’s quality of life was all that a cat could want, and more. He loved both people and cats, and had friends from both species. He really enjoyed his food, and made sure I fed him promptly upon arising in the morning. He was a hefty fella who weighed in at 16 pounds. Tom, I sure do miss you, I wasn’t ready to let you go. I think of you often, and I hope you are doing well on the other side of the bridge. I love you forever.