Squeaky the cat from a couple of years ago
Kate and I woke up this morning to a thumping, tumbling noise that usually means that Squeaky has cornered a mouse, but then we heard some yowling that definitely wasn’t “check me out, I got a mouse” yowling. Things got rapidly worse — we realized that his hind legs weren’t working, and the noise we heard was him falling off the arm of the sofa.
We put him in his carrier as quick as we could, got him to the emergency vet clinic. It was what we thought — Squeaky has had a heart murmur for the seven years he’s lived with us, and he had congestive heart failure, plus a blood clot in his hind legs, and was in a lot of pain. So we petted him while they gave him the drugs while he was struggling and yowling, and then he froze and made what I am sad to report was a “bill the cat” face. Poor guy. But he relaxed soon after that, and now he’s gone.
ELEVEN FACTS ABOUT SQUEAKY THE CAT:
- We got him from a shelter in October of 2000. We briefly considered another extremely extroverted cat, but then Squeaky, who was shy, climbed right into Kate’s lap, clearly choosing her.
- Squeaky was the size of a young puma. At the shelter, they said he was “two”, which I guess means “I dunno, he’s grown up.” The vet later said he was six or seven when we got him.
- Our vet, who is clearly a dog person, always seemed to treat Squeaky like an honorary dog on account of his size. “He’s a big one, isn’t he?”, she’d say admiringly.
- He was kind of dandruffy on his rump where he had a hard time cleaning himself.
- The name they gave him at the shelter was “Willy Winkie”, or something equally horrible. He had been at the shelter a few months, suffering under that GODAWFUL name. We tried to name him “Hugo”, but he renamed himself soon afterwards to “Squeaky” on account of his loud, high-pitched and persistent Aaron Neville meow.
- He liked very much to sit on Kate’s lap, but he would hardly ever ever sit in anyone else’s lap.
- We had to promise when we got him that he would be forever and always an indoor cat. He escaped three times. Each time, he made a lap around the house, and then slunk somewhat apologetically and with relief back through the front door. We think he was okay with the “indoor cat” arrangement.
- Given a chance, he would pee on my things, but he never ever peed on anyone else’s stuff. Things of mine that Squeaky has peed in/on: two jackets, a sweater, a sleeping bag, my workbench, and two suitcases (one with my suit in it.) I did not discover that last one until I arrived at my destination on a business trip.
- If I spent a night away from home, Squeaky would sleep on my side of the bed.
- I fed him three-fifths of a yogurt cup of cat food every night, and changed his water. I scooped his litter, and gave him fresh litter every two weeks. Yet he still continued to pee on my stuff.
- We had him cremated, after we realized that digging a Squeaky-sized hole in the back yard in February would be a Herculean job
So long, Squeakers. I already miss you.