If this is your first visit, be sure to check out the FAQ by clicking the link above. You may have to register before you can post: click the register link above to proceed. To start viewing messages, select the forum that you want to visit from the selection below. |
|
|
Thread Tools | Display Modes |
#1
|
|||
|
|||
Goodbye, Dear Tigerness
"Mark Edwards" wrote In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 Oh, Mark, I can't tell you how sorry I am to read this. Many purrs to you and Senyah, and to Little Feet who will surely miss his buddy in spite of everything. -- Marina, Frank and Nikki marina (dot) kurten (at) pp (dot) inet (dot) fi |
#2
|
|||
|
|||
Mark Edwards wrote:
In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 Fifteen years ago, I rode my little Honda motorcycle to the Arlington animal shelter. Senyah and I had been married a couple of years, and I figured it was high time we had a cat to walk with us throuh life. When I got there, they had several kittens, all cute and fuzzy, all ready to play and cuddle, if only I'd let them out of thos darn cages. Presto was a little orange and white fuzzball, feisty and vocal. He told me he was my cat, and to just ignore the others. Our shelter has a 72-hour hold rule, in case an animal's owners show up. And a first come, first served rule. Presto still had six hours left, and I spent the entire time there playing with him through the bars of his cage. I fear that we half destroyed the information card on the front of his cage... Finally, they let him out, into my custody. He purred and purred. At least until he saw what exactly I had in store for him. I put a collar and a leash on him, secured him into a blue, plastic milk crate, and put an elastic webbing over the top of the crate. The crate was then secured to the seat of my motorcycle. Well, the startup noise alone probably scared one life out of the poor kitten. He set up increasing octaves of "help me, please help me!" meows, which he maintaine over the entire four mile ride. Every time a car drove close by, he increased the volume in hopes they would free him from his cruel torture. Finally, we got home. I undid the crate, took off the webbing, unhooked the leash and collar, while Presto batted at me to leave him alone. Then I backed off and let him explore the house. The first thing he found was the little space between the wall and the stove, which I promptly plugged with an empty one-pound coffee can. He purred for the next four hours, without stopping, and eventually settled on my lap and went to sleep. When Senyah got home, I told her about Presto. Her reply was "You brought home a *what* ?!?" Presto had one vice. He like biting Senyah's fingers. They must have been evil fingers from cat hell, because he frequently went all out in his attacks, often waiting until Senyah went to sleep. If so much as one finger showed, he attacked with vicious abandon. Eventually he quit this, but it was a close call to choose between Senayh and Presto (I really would have missed Senyah - grin). It also took us a long time to break him of shredding the toilet paper. Maybe he just wanted to be sure we had plenty of confetti in case a parade was called (grin). Well, Presto settled in and made himself at home. He was always my baby, and barely tolerated Senyah. After a couple of years, he even began to accept her as his people too. Presto was my constant companion. If I was on the computer, he would sit on my lap (at least until he outgrew the "spare" portion of the chair). If I had to stay up late to finish a programming assignment, he stayed up with me, occassionally reaching up a paw to let me know he was there, and purring everytime I took a break to cuddle him. When I went to bed, he usually slept at my feet, and sometimes at my side. One night, he kept scooting up against Senyah, who kept moving out of his way, until he finally scooted her out of bed. The loud "thump!" woke me up. One time, we had to have the bathtub resurfaced. The chemicals used require that all people and pets go somewhere else for 24 hours. So we went to stay with some friends who had a cat and a dog. Presto and I drove around most of the day, to delay the inevitable confrontation. Finally, we went to the friends' apartment. I set Presto down, to introduce him. The dog is poerfectly willing to greet this new cat. Their cat, on the other hand runs up to chase Presto off. The dog thinks this is a great idea, and tehy both run after Presto, who has completely broken free of my grasp. They chase him through the apartmnent, and literally up the Venetian blinds. I reach into the middle of all this, to grab Presto. I get bitten - hard! For all he knew, I was going to feed him to those other creatures! So Presto and I went back to our place, raised a window, and put an exhaust fan in the wiindow. He slept on the top of the couch, growling under his breath at me, while I stroked him and apologized for four hours. He finally stopped giving me the death glare, accepted my apology, and jumped down on my chest. We went to sleep that way, while he purred away at me. He was my cat. My only cat. Then, after eight years, I did the unspeakable - I let a homeless kitten come in and stay! Little Feet was old when he chose us. Presto didn't really like it that we let this cat in and fed him, but at least he went away after a few hours. Until we kept him and put up posters. Nobody answered, and Little Feet became an unwelcome part of Presto's existence. Presto would hiss at Little Feet every time he walked past, often throwing in a couple of solid slaps as well. Little Feet mostly ignored it and waited Presto out. I don't know what happened - maybe Presto just got tired of hissing, but after a couple of years, Presto just accepted that Little Feet was here to stay. They were never close - Little Feet liked Presto when Prest wasn't in grumpy old cat mode - but Presto mostly ignored Little Feet. Presto accepted the fact that we brought in the occassional feral cat and fed them. If the ferals growled or hissed, they were quickly informed that "this is Presto's home - you are a guest", and then they were put outside. I think Presto liked this. Presto had a bad habit of streaking out if the door was open the slightest fraction of an inch. He often took advantage of the fact that Senyah had mobility problems, and couldn't chase him, so it often fell to me to chase after him with cries of "Get your furry little butt back in here!" One evening, he really did make good his escape. I called after him, and called after him. Eventually, I saw him and two other cats wandering the dry creekbed - he had already joined a gang! When I called to him, he and his gang high-tailed it away. I was so scared that he wouldn't come home. The next morning, he was slouching around in the holly bushes outside the door, and I managed to catch him. He did run out several more times over the years, but always ran around the building, and layed down at the front door. In which case, I just sat down with him, and petted him, while he enjoyed the outdoors. I have a leash and a collar that I would put on him. When he heard the jingle of the tags, he would run to the door, meowing at the top of his lungs. When I put the leash on, he would start pawing at the doorknob. Finally, outside! He always managed to do three or four in-an-outs, that required me to untangle the leash from stairposts and trees. But then he would settle into a nice patch of dirt, in the sun, and purr. When he did have to come back in, he growled at me and gave me the glare of death. I found out that he didn't really like other people besides me. When Dave and Patty came down, I brought him out to introduce him. He set up a caterwauling that made us all think I had a mad bobcat in the house. And he did NOT like kids. The one exception was a little three year old girl named Tamara, that Senyah babysat. Tamara could pet him ("pet him gently, and only in the right direction, Tamara") under close supervision ("Presto, it's okay!"), and he started purring for her. He used to stand up on his hind legs and box with her. Tamara would slap out at him, and he would bat her hand away. She would giggle, and he would purr. One day, he managed to slap her on the chin. She said, "Ow! He hits hard!" Well, last night, Presto's legs stopped working. He was dragging himself around with his front paws. He was cuddling up to Senyah, and wrapping his paws around my neck and purring. I told him that we would definitely see the vet first thing in the morning. We went to bed, with Presto cuddling up to me, and occassionally patting Senyah on the back. This morning, he cuddled up as close to me as he could. He wrapped his paws around my neck and pulled himself close to me, hard. He rubbed the top of his head up under my chin and we cuddled. I petted him, while he purred. Presto died in my arms not long after that. The vet will be cremating his body, and will spread his ashes over their flower bed. I think he will like that very much. I am glad that he let us know he loved us, before he left us, but I miss my tiger so very much. Thank you, dear Tigerness, for sharing our lives, for the joy and the love you brought to us, for the time well-spent in purrs and cuddles. I'm glad you no longer suffer. Pictures of Presto can be seen at: http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/oldcatpix.htm http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/cats.htm http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/cats3.htm http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/other.htm Hugs and Purrs, Mark Mark, I wish you all the best in the future. I'm also glad that Presto chose to give you all that loving before he went. He wanted you to know he loved you as much as you loved him. What a wonderful story about how he came to be with you. Purrrs Kristy -- "As God as my witness, I thought turkeys could fly." - Arthur Carlson |
#3
|
|||
|
|||
Sorry to hear of the loss of Pesto. I enjoyed reading your stories about
him. Diane "Mark Edwards" wrote in message ... In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 |
#4
|
|||
|
|||
I am very sorry for your loss.
Healing purrs and headbutts to you and Senyah, Fuga |
#5
|
|||
|
|||
We will light a candle for Presto's safe journey to the RB. She will be
happy there. It seems we've known her for a long time through your stories about her. Jazz & his mama -- Irulan from the stars we came, to the stars we return from now until the end of time "Mark Edwards" wrote in message ... In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 |
#6
|
|||
|
|||
So sorry you've lost your buddy :-(
-- Shirley see my cats at http://communities.msn.co.uk/Friendsfamilyandfelines2 http://uk.msnusers.com/friendsfamilyandfelines3 |
#7
|
|||
|
|||
What a beautiful tribute. I just had to go hug Soncek, even though he
protested loudly. I do wish there was something I could do to ease your pain, Mark. Hugs and purrs, -- Polonca & Soncek "Mark Edwards" wrote in message ... In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 Fifteen years ago, I rode my little Honda motorcycle to the Arlington animal shelter. Senyah and I had been married a couple of years, and I figured it was high time we had a cat to walk with us throuh life. snip |
#8
|
|||
|
|||
Oh, Mark and Senyah! I'm crying as I read this. My heart goes out to you
both. I have so much enjoyed reading about Presto and Little Feet; your stories have always been part of my joy of reading rpca. I'm so terribly sorry. Please know we are all purring for Presto's trip to the Rainbow Bridge and to send you comfort in your loss. Christine, Omar, Oreo, Midnight, Robin, Tucker (and Pirate) "Mark Edwards" wrote in message ... In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 Fifteen years ago, I rode my little Honda motorcycle to the Arlington animal shelter. Senyah and I had been married a couple of years, and I figured it was high time we had a cat to walk with us throuh life. When I got there, they had several kittens, all cute and fuzzy, all ready to play and cuddle, if only I'd let them out of thos darn cages. Presto was a little orange and white fuzzball, feisty and vocal. He told me he was my cat, and to just ignore the others. Our shelter has a 72-hour hold rule, in case an animal's owners show up. And a first come, first served rule. Presto still had six hours left, and I spent the entire time there playing with him through the bars of his cage. I fear that we half destroyed the information card on the front of his cage... Finally, they let him out, into my custody. He purred and purred. At least until he saw what exactly I had in store for him. I put a collar and a leash on him, secured him into a blue, plastic milk crate, and put an elastic webbing over the top of the crate. The crate was then secured to the seat of my motorcycle. Well, the startup noise alone probably scared one life out of the poor kitten. He set up increasing octaves of "help me, please help me!" meows, which he maintaine over the entire four mile ride. Every time a car drove close by, he increased the volume in hopes they would free him from his cruel torture. Finally, we got home. I undid the crate, took off the webbing, unhooked the leash and collar, while Presto batted at me to leave him alone. Then I backed off and let him explore the house. The first thing he found was the little space between the wall and the stove, which I promptly plugged with an empty one-pound coffee can. He purred for the next four hours, without stopping, and eventually settled on my lap and went to sleep. When Senyah got home, I told her about Presto. Her reply was "You brought home a *what* ?!?" Presto had one vice. He like biting Senyah's fingers. They must have been evil fingers from cat hell, because he frequently went all out in his attacks, often waiting until Senyah went to sleep. If so much as one finger showed, he attacked with vicious abandon. Eventually he quit this, but it was a close call to choose between Senayh and Presto (I really would have missed Senyah - grin). It also took us a long time to break him of shredding the toilet paper. Maybe he just wanted to be sure we had plenty of confetti in case a parade was called (grin). Well, Presto settled in and made himself at home. He was always my baby, and barely tolerated Senyah. After a couple of years, he even began to accept her as his people too. Presto was my constant companion. If I was on the computer, he would sit on my lap (at least until he outgrew the "spare" portion of the chair). If I had to stay up late to finish a programming assignment, he stayed up with me, occassionally reaching up a paw to let me know he was there, and purring everytime I took a break to cuddle him. When I went to bed, he usually slept at my feet, and sometimes at my side. One night, he kept scooting up against Senyah, who kept moving out of his way, until he finally scooted her out of bed. The loud "thump!" woke me up. One time, we had to have the bathtub resurfaced. The chemicals used require that all people and pets go somewhere else for 24 hours. So we went to stay with some friends who had a cat and a dog. Presto and I drove around most of the day, to delay the inevitable confrontation. Finally, we went to the friends' apartment. I set Presto down, to introduce him. The dog is poerfectly willing to greet this new cat. Their cat, on the other hand runs up to chase Presto off. The dog thinks this is a great idea, and tehy both run after Presto, who has completely broken free of my grasp. They chase him through the apartmnent, and literally up the Venetian blinds. I reach into the middle of all this, to grab Presto. I get bitten - hard! For all he knew, I was going to feed him to those other creatures! So Presto and I went back to our place, raised a window, and put an exhaust fan in the wiindow. He slept on the top of the couch, growling under his breath at me, while I stroked him and apologized for four hours. He finally stopped giving me the death glare, accepted my apology, and jumped down on my chest. We went to sleep that way, while he purred away at me. He was my cat. My only cat. Then, after eight years, I did the unspeakable - I let a homeless kitten come in and stay! Little Feet was old when he chose us. Presto didn't really like it that we let this cat in and fed him, but at least he went away after a few hours. Until we kept him and put up posters. Nobody answered, and Little Feet became an unwelcome part of Presto's existence. Presto would hiss at Little Feet every time he walked past, often throwing in a couple of solid slaps as well. Little Feet mostly ignored it and waited Presto out. I don't know what happened - maybe Presto just got tired of hissing, but after a couple of years, Presto just accepted that Little Feet was here to stay. They were never close - Little Feet liked Presto when Prest wasn't in grumpy old cat mode - but Presto mostly ignored Little Feet. Presto accepted the fact that we brought in the occassional feral cat and fed them. If the ferals growled or hissed, they were quickly informed that "this is Presto's home - you are a guest", and then they were put outside. I think Presto liked this. Presto had a bad habit of streaking out if the door was open the slightest fraction of an inch. He often took advantage of the fact that Senyah had mobility problems, and couldn't chase him, so it often fell to me to chase after him with cries of "Get your furry little butt back in here!" One evening, he really did make good his escape. I called after him, and called after him. Eventually, I saw him and two other cats wandering the dry creekbed - he had already joined a gang! When I called to him, he and his gang high-tailed it away. I was so scared that he wouldn't come home. The next morning, he was slouching around in the holly bushes outside the door, and I managed to catch him. He did run out several more times over the years, but always ran around the building, and layed down at the front door. In which case, I just sat down with him, and petted him, while he enjoyed the outdoors. I have a leash and a collar that I would put on him. When he heard the jingle of the tags, he would run to the door, meowing at the top of his lungs. When I put the leash on, he would start pawing at the doorknob. Finally, outside! He always managed to do three or four in-an-outs, that required me to untangle the leash from stairposts and trees. But then he would settle into a nice patch of dirt, in the sun, and purr. When he did have to come back in, he growled at me and gave me the glare of death. I found out that he didn't really like other people besides me. When Dave and Patty came down, I brought him out to introduce him. He set up a caterwauling that made us all think I had a mad bobcat in the house. And he did NOT like kids. The one exception was a little three year old girl named Tamara, that Senyah babysat. Tamara could pet him ("pet him gently, and only in the right direction, Tamara") under close supervision ("Presto, it's okay!"), and he started purring for her. He used to stand up on his hind legs and box with her. Tamara would slap out at him, and he would bat her hand away. She would giggle, and he would purr. One day, he managed to slap her on the chin. She said, "Ow! He hits hard!" Well, last night, Presto's legs stopped working. He was dragging himself around with his front paws. He was cuddling up to Senyah, and wrapping his paws around my neck and purring. I told him that we would definitely see the vet first thing in the morning. We went to bed, with Presto cuddling up to me, and occassionally patting Senyah on the back. This morning, he cuddled up as close to me as he could. He wrapped his paws around my neck and pulled himself close to me, hard. He rubbed the top of his head up under my chin and we cuddled. I petted him, while he purred. Presto died in my arms not long after that. The vet will be cremating his body, and will spread his ashes over their flower bed. I think he will like that very much. I am glad that he let us know he loved us, before he left us, but I miss my tiger so very much. Thank you, dear Tigerness, for sharing our lives, for the joy and the love you brought to us, for the time well-spent in purrs and cuddles. I'm glad you no longer suffer. Pictures of Presto can be seen at: http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/oldcatpix.htm http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/cats.htm http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/cats3.htm http://home.comcast.net/~Mark-Edwards/other.htm Hugs and Purrs, Mark |
#9
|
|||
|
|||
Oh Mark, many tears here for you and Senyah. I had no idea Presto was an
older cat!!! He always seemed very young at heart. My heart goes out to you. I'm just so sorry to hear this. I know how very, very hard it must be. ((((((Mark)))))) Karen |
#10
|
|||
|
|||
Mark Edwards wrote in message ... In memoriam, Presto Magiccat, 1989 - 2003 Well, last night, Presto's legs stopped working. He was dragging himself around with his front paws. He was cuddling up to Senyah, and wrapping his paws around my neck and purring. I told him that we would definitely see the vet first thing in the morning. We went to bed, with Presto cuddling up to me, and occassionally patting Senyah on the back. This morning, he cuddled up as close to me as he could. He wrapped his paws around my neck and pulled himself close to me, hard. He rubbed the top of his head up under my chin and we cuddled. I petted him, while he purred. Presto died in my arms not long after that. The vet will be cremating his body, and will spread his ashes over their flower bed. I think he will like that very much. I am glad that he let us know he loved us, before he left us, but I miss my tiger so very much. Thank you, dear Tigerness, for sharing our lives, for the joy and the love you brought to us, for the time well-spent in purrs and cuddles. I'm glad you no longer suffer. *crying* Thank you for a wonderful tribute Mark, to a wonderful cat. My sincere condolences on your loss. Jeanette |
Thread Tools | |
Display Modes | |
|
|
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Rosie is an absolute dear | Jo Firey | Cat anecdotes | 8 | November 21st 03 06:44 AM |