Tosca
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Tosca |
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On the evening of Thursday 2nd June 2011, our darling little cat was taken away from us. Unfortunately she was poisoned by anti-freeze (we can only hope accidentally), however we believe she died a painless death as she just appeared drunk whilst around the house, but when we rushed her to the emergency vets and renal tests were administered it was highly likely that her kidneys had failed, and so despite all the pain we were feeling we had to have her put down so that she would not suffer.
I worte a blog entry a few days later which I have included below to save the need to search for it. I am still in a lot of grief and distress over what has happened, and cannot understand why this would happen to such a wonderful little girl. She was almost more human than she was cat. She would empathise with people and put herself out of her way to come be with you if you were feeling sad. We had a special relationship with each other and Tosca used to follow me around the house all day. I was never alone - but I loved it that way. She also had a human like 'back chat' problem. She was a very intelligent cat, and had realised how people grumble at each other, and developed a series of short bursty meow's which came out as a 'meh' much more than a 'meow'. If you ever asked her to do something she didn't want to do she would give you a 'meh' before doing it anyway. She had complete trust with us, and would always know that what you asked her to do was for the best. If she was ever afraid (which happened a lot since she had no aggression in her at all - so ran away from most situations) she would come hide behind my leg. But she had such a lovely happy life she had no fear of any humans at all, and would even purr up to and roll over for complete strangers. She had so much love.
In combination with her personality being quite human, she was also a lot more than just a cat to me. In fact I would put 'being a cat/pet' at the bottom of her list. She was a friend, a confidante, she was family. She could cheer me up if I was ever feeling down with the loudest purring I have ever heard. If I was ever a bit worried about something she would come and lay with me and I could talk to her about things whilst she lay reassuring me with her purring, and looking up at me as if hanging on every word. I know she probably couldn't understand things, but she knew exactly how to be there for me. She would stay for hours without any desire to go away. In fact I almost always had to be the one who needed to go off and do something else - and then she would just follow me there and watch. Sit beside the sink watching me whilst I wash up dishes, or sitting with me beside me on the sofa whilst I watch TV. She had even learnt how to cuddle like a human, and would lay beside you and lay one of her arms over your leg/arm/hand and pull her cheek up beside it and just lay there.
She will never be forgotten for all of the wonderful things she did during her life. She was a completely unique, very special cat whom could never be replaced. She made our lives so much happier for her being around. We had the perfect family, and although Sarah and Mits are still as perfect as ever, we are now one special perfect little member less than before, and I have lost a very close friend and family member. Sarah has suggested, and I think I may take up this suggestion, keeping Tosca as my little confidante, as we are having her cremated and keeping her in a tribute box adorned with her picture - so I can still talk to her when things are on my mind. I just won't have her purring and soft fur to stroke to make me feel better about things, but I'm sure she'll be as patient and attentive as ever.
I still feel like there has been no justice in her death, and although I would have to have experienced this at some point in life it makes me very sad that she did not really live a long and full life - which she really deserved for how much she loved and gave to others. On the flip side she had such a happy life in which she wanted for nothing, and she never experienced anything bad in the world, and she did not suffer at the end. She was always a daddy's girl during her life, and she will always remain daddy's little (furry) girl.
As Sarah reminded me last night: The star that burns brightest, burns fastest. And I can think of few more suitable people to attribute this to than Tosca.
Blog Entry
(6th June 2011)Unfortunately on Thursday last week one of our two cats was poisoned (hopefully accidentally) with anti-freeze and died of her illnesses within a few hours. I was away at the time so unfortunately Sarah experienced the worst of it, however I made a quick trip back from Wales for a few hours to go to see her to say goodbye the following day.
The vets had done a wonderful job of making her look very peaceful - curled up as if she was asleep, but a little cold, so we tucked her little blanket over her and under her chin before we left.
The rally I was on in Wales at the time kept me quite shielded and separated from everything, but now that I'm back home in Birmingham its a little bit more real and devastating. We are getting by together at home with Mits (the other cat) to keep us company, but (as sad as it may seem) not having children (yet) and with all of my family being quite far away in Yorkshire the cats were a very significant part of our lives.
I take some solace that she was a very loved cat, and wanted for nothing (in fact was probably spoilt a little most of the time) but she grew into a very friendly, kind, cute (and knew how to work it to her advantage) little cat with no aggression in her at all (to her loss at times, as she would never defend her turf, her tactics were to either cuddle something or run away). She feels to have been taken away far too early at only 2.5 years old, but they were a wonderful 2.5 years that we will never forget.
We have decided to have her cremated and keep her ashes in a little box adorned with her photograph so that we can always keep her with us.
I still find myself looking around the house for her, or glancing across the road to where she used to lay under the bushes - but there is no face looking back anymore. We always worried about her with cars really - as she would instantly run across the road to meet us when we got home from work - they both recognise the car now, so spot us coming down the lane. So its quite lucky that we live on a moderately quiet cul-de-sac.
Anyway, I won't go into a lot more detail in this (what seems to have turned out to be a lament) as it's still very difficult for me to talk or write much about.
It still hurts me to think about how undeserving (and early) an ending this was to a life that was so innocent and kind. She was a very loving cat - even with strangers, and would never hiss at people or try to scratch, but nearly always smile at them and roll over for them to pet her. She always purred - and had one of the loudest purrs I've ever heard - you could hear her from the other side of the living room. Very trusting (possibly too much so), very loving, and very tuned into our emotions. She knew whenever either Sar or I were upset and would go into cuteness overdrive and never leave your side. She grew up as (very much) a daddy's girl, and would always follow me around and rub up against me. Now daddy's little girl has gone away and there was nothing I could do to save her. It left me feeling so helpless. She used to come to me when she was worried or afraid of something and I could protect her (or usually joke with her about how lame she would be for running away from a very minor thing) and pick her up and make things better. - Like get her to a vet and cure her when she had cystitis. But I couldn't do anything to save her from this. I wasn't even around for her at the end. And that does grate on my memory quite a lot. Luckily Sarah could be with her at the end however, so she didn't die alone. I got to come back the next evening to go to see her body and say goodbye. I never wanted to leave the room. I didn't want to leave her there. She doesn't like being alone - she always likes to be close to us, even when she is in an independant ‘bit of space' mood she'd always keep within sight of us and would generally sit on the stairs. I can't think of any cat less deserving of being taken so soon. She deserved a very long, wonderfully happy life for all that she gave to others.
Goodbye Tosca. We'll love you forever and you will never be forgotten. Thank you for every second we had with you and how much brighter you made our lives. I hope you find peace and happiness.
