Rolecall: RPCA Rainbow Bridge kitties

"Gandalf" wrote in message
...
It seems like the past 6 months there have been *so many* RPCA kitties
going to the Bridge.

By my count, no less than 11 RPCA cats have gone to the Bridge, just
since June.

I'm sorry to say that it is getting very hard to remember all of the RB
kitties, so they can be properly honored.

So I thought it would be nice to have a thread with all of the RPCA RB
kitties names in it.

I'll start.

Both of my RB kitties have been gone for a long time, although I still
miss them every day. They are buried in my back yard, under my lilac
bushes. There are stone markers where I laid them to rest.

My wonderful, outgoing, extremely friendly tuxedo lady, Lucky, went to
the Bridge on June 9, 1999, before I found RPCA. She shared 16 years
with me.

My sweet, gentle, loving all white cat, Blizzard, went to the Bridge in
April 10th, 2001. I was blessed with a long full life with her.

Some of the old timers here may remember when Blizzard went deaf, and
gave me advice to cope with her loss of hearing.

In her last year of life, Blizzard began to have trouble jumping up on
the sofa and my bed, and again I received very helpful advice from the
good people here on RPCA to help Blizzard with her decreased mobility.

I was very blessed in that both of my RB kitties lived long full lives,
and suffered no illness, until the very end.

Many other RPCA kitties have not been so fortunate, I'm very sorry to
say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Life without cats would be only marginally worth living."
-TC, and the unmercifully, relentlessly, sweet calico kitty, Kenzie.

How you behave towards cats here below determines your status in Heaven.
- Robert Heinlein

Life is very difficult. Once you understand that, life becomes easier.
-Buddha





Very thoughtful idea, Gandalf. I would like to remember my Frodo
(1979-2000) a very sweet cream-colored tabby who passed away after many
wonderful years together; we found each other when he was a kitten and he
literally followed me home. Also, Shetra (1987-2004), a long-haired orange
and white gentlecat who a co-worker found as a kitten in the parking lot.
And dear Omar, my sweet orange tabby boy (2000-2005) whom I adopted from the
humane society at Petsmart 3 weeks after I lost Frodo; he had to leave us
way too young (after a long illness).

They all were much loved and sorely missed.
Christine Burel

Gandalf wrote:
It seems like the past 6 months there have been *so many* RPCA kitties
going to the Bridge.

By my count, no less than 11 RPCA cats have gone to the Bridge, just
since June.

I'm sorry to say that it is getting very hard to remember all of the RB
kitties, so they can be properly honored.

So I thought it would be nice to have a thread with all of the RPCA RB
kitties names in it.

Tigger, RB in March 2003, at the young age of 9. Still very much missed.
Our sweet, dumb tabby.

Twilight, RB Feb. 14, 2000. My first cat and soul mate. The only thing
that makes his passing not hurt any more is our wonderful black and
white Thunder, who carries part of Twilight's soul.

And this year, Sept. 20, 2007, I lost my mother. While she wasn't an
animal person, she listened to my stories of the cats. I miss her.

{{{{{hugs to everyone}}}}}

An absolutely beautiful tribute, Lori.
Christine
"CatNipped" wrote in message
...
Thanks for the opportunity to remember, Gandalf - it is very apropos for
All Souls Day.

Bandit left us on June 4, 2007. Dr. French came to our home so that
Bandit wouldn't know fear as her last experience on earth.

She had an easy passage to the bridge, she was so weak that I think the
intramuscular sedative was enough to send her on her way. When Dr. French
poked her thigh with the sedative needle she gave one last cougar-like
yowl and scared the **** out of the vet tech (Bandit's trademark, patented
July 8, 1990). After that it took about 5 minutes for the sedative to
start working (as I said, I think her breathing may have stopped, or
slowed so much I couldn't see her chest rise, at that point). Then Dr.
French gave her the medicine that released her from her pain and
infirmities. The whole time I was crooning to her the exact words I said
to her as I left for work each morning, "Bye my Bandit, you be Mommy's
good girl and I'll see you later. I love my Bandit."

We had a good final weekend together, I got some last pictures of her, and
I let her roam around in the backyard smelling the world for the last time
(http://www.PossiblePlaces.com/CatNipped/Bandit_Last/). You can see how
weary she looked in the pictures taken on the day she went to the bridge.

For the last two hours of her life I held her in my arms and petted her,
and told her all that she meant to me over the years.

================================================== ================================================== =

In loving memory of our beloved Bandit, April 8, 1990 to June 4, 2007.

Here are just a few memories of Bandit (in 17 years, there are a *lot* of
memories).

Bandit was one of the smartest cats I've ever known.

Some examples of how smart she was...

The first example of how smart she was is the first time I met her. She
was all of 6 weeks old when I opened my front door one day and she dashed
past my legs into my living room. I picked her up and put her back outside
next to the food bowl, assuming she was the kitten of one of the
feral/stray cats I fed. However, as soon as I put her down she ran back
into the house again. At that point I accepted the inevitable and informed
DH that we had been adopted by the cutest little long-haired tabby I had
ever seen.

She understood an amazing number of words and phrases, such as:

Whenever I said, "Come huggers me, Bandit!" she would walk across my bed
and snuggle down next to me so I could hug/hold her like a teddy-bear. The
word, "tuna", no matter how softly muttered, sent her tearing across the
house into the kitchen even before I started the can opener (it got so
that DH and I had to spell the word "tuna" - which worked until she
learned how to spell "tuna"!!!). When she was naughty, the phrase, "Go lay
down, you're punished!" caused her to drop her head and walk into my
bedroom (where she sat right next to the threshold and leaned over to look
out at me sadly until I relented). She knew when I said, "Let's play put
the sheets on the bed," that it was time to come jump up and kill all the
evil bed greeblings.

She knew an amazing number of actions that would cause a reaction, such
as:

When she wanted to wake me up, she would touch the "touch lamp" that sat
on the night stand next to my bed 3 times very quickly with her nose to
turn it on to its brightest setting. Or, if that didn't work fast enough,
she would dip her paw into the glass of water I kept beside my bed and
then shake it off in front of my face.

Bandit was one of the meanest / fiercest cats I've ever known (her
nickname was "Bitch Queen of the Universe").

Some examples of how mean / fierce she was...

When Bandit was only about 8 weeks old, my son walked in the front door
followed by his friend, who was followed by his pit bull. Bandit was
sitting on the arm of the sofa when she launched herself through the air
and landed on the dog's face. She locked her front claws behind his ears
and her back claws under his jaw, and proceeded to bite him about the face
and head. She looked like the alien in the movie "Alien" who plastered
itself onto the astronaut's face. The poor dog stood there yelping and
shaking his head back and forth trying to dislodge her. He finally managed
to rid himself of her and ran yelping all the way home.

I would warn every vet and vet tech about how violent Bandit could get and
would ask them if I could hold her so they wouldn't get hurt (even though
she would bite and scratch me, she didn't do it as savagely to me as to
anybody else). One vet's office refused to let me hold her and had the vet
tech try to hold her down instead. The poor vet tech wound up needing over
50 stitches in his forearm where she raked him with her hind claws.

For the first few years after we moved to Houston, we lived in a second
story apartment. We used to let Bandit sit on the balcony until one day
when she spotted a very large tom cat in the garden below. She jumped off
the balcony onto the back of the tom and then chased him for two blocks
until she got tired (she used to be a lot more "fluffy" than she had been
recently).

Just about a year after that, we had a couple over to our apartment. I
warned the guys to stay away from Bandit, but one of the guys said,
"You've got to be kidding - we have 3 large pit bulls at home, we're not
afraid of one little cat!" "No," I said, "I'm not kidding - stay away from
her, she'll hurt you." Ben and I went into the kitchen together to get
drinks when we suddenly heard loud screeching and Bandit's cougar-like
yowl (Bandit's trademark, patented July 8, 1990) coming from our living
room. When we rushed back in we found that one of the guys had made a
kick-like motion towards her with his foot. He was standing on top of the
backrest of our sofa, hugging the wall and screaming, "Get her away from
me, get her away from me please!"

Bandit was one of the most vengeful cats I've ever known.

She would take revenge every single time I traveled out of the city and
left her alone with Ben ("not the mama"). And she knew how to count, too!
Once when I left her for three days, she took the opportunity of my coming
in the front door with my luggage to dart outside. I found her collar on
the bushes in front of our apartment, but no Bandit. I searched all night
and the next three nights in vane. Just when I was ready to give up, after
the exact amount of time that I had been away, Bandit showed up on our
(upstairs) doorstep haughtily waiting to be let back in again. Other times
after I'd been away, when she didn't feel like being bothered by
disappearing, she would take her revenge by biting me in the middle of the
night for as many nights as I had been gone.
Bandit liked her creature comforts.

I like to pile my bed high with pillows - 4 fat, king-sized pillows and 7
small throw pillows. Bandit would climb on top of that huge mound and nap
peacefully on the softest spot in the entire house. She would curse me out
every night when I made her move off of her throne in order to unmake my
bed for sleeping. However, she did forgive me upon our nightly ritual of a
complete body massage, brushing with a soft baby's brush, and scritchin's
for at least a half an hour before she deigned to settle down to some
serious sleeping.

Bandit had the most indomitable spirit of any cat I've ever known.

When she was 15 years old I took her in for a routine teeth cleaning. The
vet was using a new "rice" warming sack and the vet tech left the sack in
the microwave for far too long. Bandit was burned on over 60% of her
body - burned so badly that the skin became gangrenous and started
sloughing off her body. I didn't even know it had happened, she hid her
pain so well. It wasn't until 10 days later that I saw the open wound on
her belly that I knew she had been grievously injured. It took three
surgeries to remove the dead skin and close up all the wounds on her
belly, back and side. For weeks and weeks she was in the most unimaginable
pain any creature could endure, yet she still came to me each night to be
petted and brushed. And when she went to the vet to get the last staples
taken out, it took two vet techs and me to hold her down, and she still
managed to slash and bite two of us (me so badly I had to get antibiotics
and a tetanus shot!!!).

In the last year of her life she was blinded by the tumor in her brain
that eventually brought the end of her life. Yet she never backed down
from the challenge of living life to the fullest. She walked boldly across
the floor (and often, just as boldly, walked into walls or furniture) -
but was never afraid. When anybody got "in her face", or in her air space
(she resented any other creature breathing *her* air), she would hiss and
yowl and violently swat the air in front of her (said intruder having
wisely backed out of range), and then sit back to lick herself in triumph.

Bandit loved me more than anybody else on this earth loved me.

She loved me totally, unconditionally, and steadfastly. Any time that any
part of her body was touching any part of my body she was purring in
contentment. She snuggled close to me every night and let me hold her like
a teddy bear. She trusted me to always be there for her as she was always
there for me. When I was feeling moody and being so bitchy that everyone
else avoided me, she came and rubbed herself on me and purred until I was
feeling better again. When it seemed like everyone in the world was
conspiring to crush my spirit, she licked the tears from my face and let
me know that even if everyone else in my life left me alone and in pain
she would stay by my side and ease my sorrow.

Bandit will be more sorely missed than any other cat I've ever known.

After 17 years I feel so lost and alone without her that the pain
sometimes takes my breath away. I'll forget for whole minutes at a time
that she's gone and then something will remind me (everything reminds me!)
and the realization of her loss washes over me again with the same force
as when the vet whispered, "She's gone now."

Bandit left behind three "sisters", all of whom I love dearly. And there
will probably be other cats in my life whom I'll love as well. But there
will never be another cat who has that special bond with me that Bandit
had. There can never be another cat who could take on the world with her
spirit and courage and grace. Her loss has left behind a hole in my heart
a thousand times larger than the tiny creature who held my heart in her
paws.

My life will never be the same without her.

Hugs,

CatNipped

"Gandalf" wrote in message
...
It seems like the past 6 months there have been *so many* RPCA kitties
going to the Bridge.

By my count, no less than 11 RPCA cats have gone to the Bridge, just
since June.

I'm sorry to say that it is getting very hard to remember all of the RB
kitties, so they can be properly honored.

So I thought it would be nice to have a thread with all of the RPCA RB
kitties names in it.

I'll start.

Both of my RB kitties have been gone for a long time, although I still
miss them every day. They are buried in my back yard, under my lilac
bushes. There are stone markers where I laid them to rest.

My wonderful, outgoing, extremely friendly tuxedo lady, Lucky, went to
the Bridge on June 9, 1999, before I found RPCA. She shared 16 years
with me.

My sweet, gentle, loving all white cat, Blizzard, went to the Bridge in
April 10th, 2001. I was blessed with a long full life with her.

Some of the old timers here may remember when Blizzard went deaf, and
gave me advice to cope with her loss of hearing.

In her last year of life, Blizzard began to have trouble jumping up on
the sofa and my bed, and again I received very helpful advice from the
good people here on RPCA to help Blizzard with her decreased mobility.

I was very blessed in that both of my RB kitties lived long full lives,
and suffered no illness, until the very end.

Many other RPCA kitties have not been so fortunate, I'm very sorry to
say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Life without cats would be only marginally worth living."
-TC, and the unmercifully, relentlessly, sweet calico kitty, Kenzie.

How you behave towards cats here below determines your status in Heaven.
- Robert Heinlein

Life is very difficult. Once you understand that, life becomes easier.
-Buddha

CatNipped wrote:
Thanks for the opportunity to remember, Gandalf - it is very apropos for All
Souls Day.

Bandit left us on June 4, 2007. Dr. French came to our home so that Bandit
wouldn't know fear as her last experience on earth.
beautiful tribute snipped
She surely was special, wasn't she. Purrs for happy memories to
supplant the sad ones of her passing.

Sam, closely supervised by Mistletoe

I too thank you Gandalf for the memories.

My first cat went to the Bridge following a long, debilitating battle
with brain cancer. Snowflake was a white cat (duh) who came to live
with me when I was about 10. Our neighbors across the street had a
pair of siamese and I had been begging my mother to let me have a cat.
Then one night the teenage boy at the top of the hill ( a cul-de-sac)
left work on a rainy night and his first discovery was that he'd left
his window down. The second discovery was the young, white cat in his
car. So Wayne decided to bring the cat home and give to his younger
teenage brother. Except he didn't tell Mike what was happening. He
left the cat asleep on Mike's bed. Mike woke up the next morning and
touched the cat, got scared and shouted loud enough to scare the cat
who went out the open window. Snowflake ended up next door at the
home of siamese but they couldn't keep her. Therefore, my parents said
that I could have her. What none of my neighbors or parents knew was
that Snowflake was truly my cat. It just got lost finding my house.
She slept with me, played with me, listened to my secrets, and played
kleenex when necessary. She once got caught outside in the middle of
a tornado. We tried to find her but when the storm went over we had
to go downstairs. As soon as the eye was over us and we could go out
and look we found her in a tree, looking totally woebegone. She came
in before the other side of the storm passed over. When she developed
brain cancer she had trouble walking. We lived in a split level house
and she slept upstairs, her food was on the second level and she
wanted to spend time with the family in the basement. At first she
would try to go down but she would stumble and then roll down the
stairs. Eventually she learned to sit at the top of the stairs for me
to come get her. Although she was my cat, my mother had a mural of a
weeping willow on one wall in the livingroom. Whenever my mother had
her friends over for a bridge game, Snowflake would curl up at the
base of the tree and sleep through the bridge game. Most of the
ladies thought she was just part of the mural. Some would be very
startled when she moved. She wanted to go outside. She never used a
litterbox, her business had to be done outside. Unfortunately, one
day she returned, or tried to return, to the back step having a huge
chunk bitten out of her side. She looked up at me and mewed that
heartbreaking sound that says, It's time for me to leave, help me
please?" My father took her to the vet school who had been studying
her over the year she was sick. A year before they had arranged to
cover all the necessary vetting, including brain scans and CT scans,
if at the end we would allow them to do an autopsy. My father gently
gathered her up and while I had to catch the school bus she was taken
to the vet school and never returned. She will always be my first and
most special.

Then there were several cats in my adult life but only a few that
stand out. Snoopy was a siamese who loved me dearly and was my only
friend as a newly wed to a man who traveled Sunday night to Thursday.
Unfortunately, Snoopy liked to sleep on DH's warm truck tires and
that's where he was one evening when DH rushed out, cranked the truck
and left. He came back in soon and told me what had happened. I will
always miss that cat.

My second husband was given custody of all of our cats when I left
him. We had four but Wolf Rabbit a fierce calico cat that once
attacked the water reader man and Pandora a beautiful purebred siamese
who lacked the classic look to warrant registration but at $25 she was
worth every penny.

In my current life, Selena is the only cat I have that's made the
journey. Most of you remember her going in her sleep last year. It
was apparently a peaceful passing as there didn't appear any stress
nor any blood. I sure do miss her though. Especially this time of
year. She was my Familiar. I think perhaps Barnabus would like to be
my familiar as judged by the way he watches and learns from me, but
he's waiting, giving Selena a respectful period of time before trying
to take that place in my life.

Julie

Gandalf wrote:
It seems like the past 6 months there have been *so many* RPCA kitties
going to the Bridge.

Figaro, went to the bridge in 1976, still missed.

Bod 1990

Smokey, March 2000, a few weeks after my brother. I hit an all time low at
that point.

Rosie, Snoopy's littermate, July 2003

Milo, Baggy's littermate, July 2004, on his first birthday. :-(
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
Cats leave pawprints on your heart
http://community.webshots.com/user/clowderuk

Late for All Saints/Halloween, but

Tiger - ??-?? - my childhood kitty
Tribble - 1986-2003
Natasha - 1987 - 2006

and the family D*things too
Duchess, Bruno, Rocky, Kong, Whiskey
and assorted parakeets, hamsters and/or gerbils, and county fair
goldfish

snip
I'm sorry to say that it is getting very hard to remember all of the RB
kitties, so they can be properly honored.

So I thought it would be nice to have a thread with all of the RPCA RB
kitties names in it.

snip

I'll add in mine:
Minette, the mostly white calico girl with a ringed black and brown
tail who walked into my parents' house during a cocktail party when I
was about 5 and stayed on. She came from a house up the street, but
they hardly batted an eye when my mom told them their cat had moved
into our house. She was my mother's cat mostly, and unfortunately had
my mom trained to feed her at the slightest cry, so she was quite
overweight. She could push open the front door when she wanted to come
in, if it wasn't locked. She'd sit right next to it inside until
someone came to close the door again. She was a household fixture
until she had to be helped to the bridge in my senior year of college
due to kidney failure.

Fizzgig, my funny fatboy, who went suddenly about 2 years ago when he
was only 5.

"Christine Burel" wrote in message
...
An absolutely beautiful tribute, Lori.

Thanks Christine. It's less than she deserved, but as much as my feeble
skills can evoke. I still miss her *SO* much.

Hugs,

CatNipped

Christine
"CatNipped" wrote in message
...
Thanks for the opportunity to remember, Gandalf - it is very apropos for
All Souls Day.

Bandit left us on June 4, 2007. Dr. French came to our home so that
Bandit wouldn't know fear as her last experience on earth.

She had an easy passage to the bridge, she was so weak that I think the
intramuscular sedative was enough to send her on her way. When Dr.
French poked her thigh with the sedative needle she gave one last
cougar-like yowl and scared the **** out of the vet tech (Bandit's
trademark, patented July 8, 1990). After that it took about 5 minutes
for the sedative to start working (as I said, I think her breathing may
have stopped, or slowed so much I couldn't see her chest rise, at that
point). Then Dr. French gave her the medicine that released her from her
pain and infirmities. The whole time I was crooning to her the exact
words I said to her as I left for work each morning, "Bye my Bandit, you
be Mommy's good girl and I'll see you later. I love my Bandit."

We had a good final weekend together, I got some last pictures of her,
and I let her roam around in the backyard smelling the world for the last
time (http://www.PossiblePlaces.com/CatNipped/Bandit_Last/). You can see
how weary she looked in the pictures taken on the day she went to the
bridge.

For the last two hours of her life I held her in my arms and petted her,
and told her all that she meant to me over the years.

================================================== ================================================== =

In loving memory of our beloved Bandit, April 8, 1990 to June 4, 2007.

Here are just a few memories of Bandit (in 17 years, there are a *lot* of
memories).

Bandit was one of the smartest cats I've ever known.

Some examples of how smart she was...

The first example of how smart she was is the first time I met her. She
was all of 6 weeks old when I opened my front door one day and she dashed
past my legs into my living room. I picked her up and put her back
outside next to the food bowl, assuming she was the kitten of one of the
feral/stray cats I fed. However, as soon as I put her down she ran back
into the house again. At that point I accepted the inevitable and
informed DH that we had been adopted by the cutest little long-haired
tabby I had ever seen.

She understood an amazing number of words and phrases, such as:

Whenever I said, "Come huggers me, Bandit!" she would walk across my bed
and snuggle down next to me so I could hug/hold her like a teddy-bear.
The word, "tuna", no matter how softly muttered, sent her tearing across
the house into the kitchen even before I started the can opener (it got
so that DH and I had to spell the word "tuna" - which worked until she
learned how to spell "tuna"!!!). When she was naughty, the phrase, "Go
lay down, you're punished!" caused her to drop her head and walk into my
bedroom (where she sat right next to the threshold and leaned over to
look out at me sadly until I relented). She knew when I said, "Let's play
put the sheets on the bed," that it was time to come jump up and kill all
the evil bed greeblings.

She knew an amazing number of actions that would cause a reaction, such
as:

When she wanted to wake me up, she would touch the "touch lamp" that sat
on the night stand next to my bed 3 times very quickly with her nose to
turn it on to its brightest setting. Or, if that didn't work fast enough,
she would dip her paw into the glass of water I kept beside my bed and
then shake it off in front of my face.

Bandit was one of the meanest / fiercest cats I've ever known (her
nickname was "Bitch Queen of the Universe").

Some examples of how mean / fierce she was...

When Bandit was only about 8 weeks old, my son walked in the front door
followed by his friend, who was followed by his pit bull. Bandit was
sitting on the arm of the sofa when she launched herself through the air
and landed on the dog's face. She locked her front claws behind his ears
and her back claws under his jaw, and proceeded to bite him about the
face and head. She looked like the alien in the movie "Alien" who
plastered itself onto the astronaut's face. The poor dog stood there
yelping and shaking his head back and forth trying to dislodge her. He
finally managed to rid himself of her and ran yelping all the way home.

I would warn every vet and vet tech about how violent Bandit could get
and would ask them if I could hold her so they wouldn't get hurt (even
though she would bite and scratch me, she didn't do it as savagely to me
as to anybody else). One vet's office refused to let me hold her and had
the vet tech try to hold her down instead. The poor vet tech wound up
needing over 50 stitches in his forearm where she raked him with her hind
claws.

For the first few years after we moved to Houston, we lived in a second
story apartment. We used to let Bandit sit on the balcony until one day
when she spotted a very large tom cat in the garden below. She jumped off
the balcony onto the back of the tom and then chased him for two blocks
until she got tired (she used to be a lot more "fluffy" than she had been
recently).

Just about a year after that, we had a couple over to our apartment. I
warned the guys to stay away from Bandit, but one of the guys said,
"You've got to be kidding - we have 3 large pit bulls at home, we're not
afraid of one little cat!" "No," I said, "I'm not kidding - stay away
from her, she'll hurt you." Ben and I went into the kitchen together to
get drinks when we suddenly heard loud screeching and Bandit's
cougar-like yowl (Bandit's trademark, patented July 8, 1990) coming from
our living room. When we rushed back in we found that one of the guys had
made a kick-like motion towards her with his foot. He was standing on top
of the backrest of our sofa, hugging the wall and screaming, "Get her
away from me, get her away from me please!"

Bandit was one of the most vengeful cats I've ever known.

She would take revenge every single time I traveled out of the city and
left her alone with Ben ("not the mama"). And she knew how to count, too!
Once when I left her for three days, she took the opportunity of my
coming in the front door with my luggage to dart outside. I found her
collar on the bushes in front of our apartment, but no Bandit. I searched
all night and the next three nights in vane. Just when I was ready to
give up, after the exact amount of time that I had been away, Bandit
showed up on our (upstairs) doorstep haughtily waiting to be let back in
again. Other times after I'd been away, when she didn't feel like being
bothered by disappearing, she would take her revenge by biting me in the
middle of the night for as many nights as I had been gone.
Bandit liked her creature comforts.

I like to pile my bed high with pillows - 4 fat, king-sized pillows and 7
small throw pillows. Bandit would climb on top of that huge mound and nap
peacefully on the softest spot in the entire house. She would curse me
out every night when I made her move off of her throne in order to unmake
my bed for sleeping. However, she did forgive me upon our nightly ritual
of a complete body massage, brushing with a soft baby's brush, and
scritchin's for at least a half an hour before she deigned to settle down
to some serious sleeping.

Bandit had the most indomitable spirit of any cat I've ever known.

When she was 15 years old I took her in for a routine teeth cleaning. The
vet was using a new "rice" warming sack and the vet tech left the sack in
the microwave for far too long. Bandit was burned on over 60% of her
body - burned so badly that the skin became gangrenous and started
sloughing off her body. I didn't even know it had happened, she hid her
pain so well. It wasn't until 10 days later that I saw the open wound on
her belly that I knew she had been grievously injured. It took three
surgeries to remove the dead skin and close up all the wounds on her
belly, back and side. For weeks and weeks she was in the most
unimaginable pain any creature could endure, yet she still came to me
each night to be petted and brushed. And when she went to the vet to get
the last staples taken out, it took two vet techs and me to hold her
down, and she still managed to slash and bite two of us (me so badly I
had to get antibiotics and a tetanus shot!!!).

In the last year of her life she was blinded by the tumor in her brain
that eventually brought the end of her life. Yet she never backed down
from the challenge of living life to the fullest. She walked boldly
across the floor (and often, just as boldly, walked into walls or
furniture) - but was never afraid. When anybody got "in her face", or in
her air space (she resented any other creature breathing *her* air), she
would hiss and yowl and violently swat the air in front of her (said
intruder having wisely backed out of range), and then sit back to lick
herself in triumph.

Bandit loved me more than anybody else on this earth loved me.

She loved me totally, unconditionally, and steadfastly. Any time that any
part of her body was touching any part of my body she was purring in
contentment. She snuggled close to me every night and let me hold her
like a teddy bear. She trusted me to always be there for her as she was
always there for me. When I was feeling moody and being so bitchy that
everyone else avoided me, she came and rubbed herself on me and purred
until I was feeling better again. When it seemed like everyone in the
world was conspiring to crush my spirit, she licked the tears from my
face and let me know that even if everyone else in my life left me alone
and in pain she would stay by my side and ease my sorrow.

Bandit will be more sorely missed than any other cat I've ever known.

After 17 years I feel so lost and alone without her that the pain
sometimes takes my breath away. I'll forget for whole minutes at a time
that she's gone and then something will remind me (everything reminds
me!) and the realization of her loss washes over me again with the same
force as when the vet whispered, "She's gone now."

Bandit left behind three "sisters", all of whom I love dearly. And there
will probably be other cats in my life whom I'll love as well. But there
will never be another cat who has that special bond with me that Bandit
had. There can never be another cat who could take on the world with her
spirit and courage and grace. Her loss has left behind a hole in my heart
a thousand times larger than the tiny creature who held my heart in her
paws.

My life will never be the same without her.

Hugs,

CatNipped

"Gandalf" wrote in message
...
It seems like the past 6 months there have been *so many* RPCA kitties
going to the Bridge.

By my count, no less than 11 RPCA cats have gone to the Bridge, just
since June.

I'm sorry to say that it is getting very hard to remember all of the RB
kitties, so they can be properly honored.

So I thought it would be nice to have a thread with all of the RPCA RB
kitties names in it.

I'll start.

Both of my RB kitties have been gone for a long time, although I still
miss them every day. They are buried in my back yard, under my lilac
bushes. There are stone markers where I laid them to rest.

My wonderful, outgoing, extremely friendly tuxedo lady, Lucky, went to
the Bridge on June 9, 1999, before I found RPCA. She shared 16 years
with me.

My sweet, gentle, loving all white cat, Blizzard, went to the Bridge in
April 10th, 2001. I was blessed with a long full life with her.

Some of the old timers here may remember when Blizzard went deaf, and
gave me advice to cope with her loss of hearing.

In her last year of life, Blizzard began to have trouble jumping up on
the sofa and my bed, and again I received very helpful advice from the
good people here on RPCA to help Blizzard with her decreased mobility.

I was very blessed in that both of my RB kitties lived long full lives,
and suffered no illness, until the very end.

Many other RPCA kitties have not been so fortunate, I'm very sorry to
say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Life without cats would be only marginally worth living."
-TC, and the unmercifully, relentlessly, sweet calico kitty, Kenzie.

How you behave towards cats here below determines your status in Heaven.
- Robert Heinlein

Life is very difficult. Once you understand that, life becomes easier.
-Buddha

"sam" wrote in message
...
CatNipped wrote:
Thanks for the opportunity to remember, Gandalf - it is very apropos for
All Souls Day.

Bandit left us on June 4, 2007. Dr. French came to our home so that
Bandit wouldn't know fear as her last experience on earth.
beautiful tribute snipped
She surely was special, wasn't she. Purrs for happy memories to supplant
the sad ones of her passing.

Very special, I've never known another cat like her. The picture Yowie just
posted of the rpca t-shirt looked so much like her in her prime that it took
my breath away when the page loaded! I still miss her so much, I know
people say that there will come a time when I can remember her with a smile
instead of tears, but I think that's still a long way off for me.

Hugs,

CatNipped


Sam, closely supervised by Mistletoe