last night, one of our cats, Ptolemy, had a heart attack and died. We will miss him terribly. Twelve years ago, we lost another cat and decided that to fill the gap, we would allow our kitten, Bast, to have a litter of kittens. Ptolemy was one of those kittens. The original plan was that having lost two cats in short succession, we would keep two of the litter and give two away. As it turned out, we kept all four.
Some cats are content to just be. Sleeping and lazing in the sun with the occasional trip to the food bowl. Ptolemy was not one of those cats. Ptolemy had nine lives to live and he intended to live them to the full. His first escapade came when he was only a couple of months old. While I was getting the bike out of the garage, he sat in front of it just where I couldn’t see him. The first I knew of this was when I heard a squeal and saw a flash of tabby as I fell off the bike. Someone, somewhere, has a BMW R1100RT with a scratch on the front mudguard that is a lasting legacy to the day Ptolemy took on a motorcycle and came out on top. A rushed visit to the vet found nothing wrong and I was left to pick up the bike from where I left it.
He was determined from very early on to be the top cat. This was an ambition he never realised as by the time he was in his prime, there were just too many other cats further up the pecking order, but that didn’t dent his ambition. One of his scrapes left him limping with a bad leg during the hours before we were due to catch a ferry to France. Such was our worry, and having lost sleep trying to coax him out of the garage at midnight, we had to postpone our crossing until the following day. Indeed, such was my tiredness due to loss of sleep, it triggered a migraine causing us to terminate the holiday early. Ptolemy, meanwhile was fine.
Then, a couple of years later, he and his mother managed to get themselves locked into the garage while we were in France for a week. We were worried about Bast as she was very dehydrated, requiring intraveanous hydration. Ptolemy was undaunted by his experince, merely rushing into the kitchen where he drank a bowl of water and was fine.
His tendency to fight left him with a chipped tooth and an abscess – the scar of which left him with a bald patch on his neck that remained for the rest of his life.
When we moved to France, we had to get all of the cats vaccinated against rabies. The vet advised us that he had a heart murmur. I suppose that we should not have been surprised by this as the stray ginger tom who fathered him died of a heart condition some six years earlier. Still, he weathered the journey and during the first twenty-four hours after arrival, sorted out the mouse infestation that we walked into. His mousing ability remained fine tuned until the final weeks of his life. He may have grown frail and thin, but he was lighting fast when he spied a rodent.
In January this year, he stopped eating and had become painfully thin. We took him to the vet and had his teeth scaled. At the same time, a blood test highlighted liver problems. So we knew his number was up in the near future. His newly cleaned teeth worked a treat and he was eating readily, but was still not putting on weight.
At about this time, we found out that Kiya, one of last years kittens has chronic renal failure, and last weekend she had a bad episode. Indeed, I was so worried about her, that I almost forgot that Ptolemy was fading away. When Mrs. L telephoned me in the early hours of this morning to tell me that Ptolemy had gone, it shook me as I was expecting bad news about Kiya, who has since rallied somewhat.
The trouble with keeping cats is that sooner or later, they break your heart. This past few weeks, Ptolemy and Kiya have comprehensively succeeded in doing just that.
So, here’s to Ptolemy, a cat who lived life to the full and carried the scars to prove it; a very fine cat indeed.
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On a slightly more cheerful note; this little cat has been trying to move in for the past eighteen months.
We have been resisting as unlike Louis, she isn’t a kitten so hasn’t been tame. However, she has been spending more and more time with us. Last weekend she settled on the rocking chair by the fire and allowed me to stroke her head and treated me to a purr, so our resolve melted by Ptolemy and Kiya, we have given in. She will be chipped and spayed and Minnie is taking up residence.
Bless him.
At least you know his fate. My biggest fear is for mine (born April 1998) to do as they tend to do, just disappear and die in private. He’s older than the kids so would be a big loss.
A house isn’t a house without a cat though, so however much the pain, I’d still get another after.
.-= My last blog ..Labour Kill Businesses, Especially Pubs =-.
I feel for your loss. We are down to our final cat, who, to our surprise, relishes being an only feline. She’s 18, with a heart murmur, over-active thyroid, high blood pressure and IBS. Some days she acts like a 4 year old. Today she’s very geriatric indeed. So the time is coming when this will be a catless house for the first time in 23 years. And what do we do then?
We love them, they take over our homes, each in their own way, and then they’re gone. But never forgotten.
Cats l can never see as pets. You form a relationshp with them that always seems to be on their terms. lt’s a great loss when you lose them and more often than not they know when their time is up and they disappear to end their days in secrecy so you are unsure of their fate as previous poster said.
They are truly fascinating creatures. Sorry you’ve lost him.
Spartan
Ave Ptolemy, felis optimus.
May he find his way to the furry Valhalla where all fights are won, all queens are willing and it rains buttered lobster.
Oh, that is a shame! But Dick’s right, at least you know what happened, and you were spared having to make the decision to take that last trip to the vets.
Minnie looks like a sweetheart. The received wisdom that a feral cat can never become tame is, like a lot of received wisdom, sometimes utter bunk! Cats are individuals, not pre-programmed machines.
.-= My last blog ..Swallowing The Elephant… =-.
Too true JuliaM, my daughter had a feral cat and they really bonded. At the time she was into Buffy the Vampire Slayer and being that wayout didn’t like giving him the name Angel … so called him Satan! He was full of life, totally independent but protected her like a lion.
A few years later whilst l was working out of town l got call from her that he’d been in a car accident. My daughter would be about 11 at the time. She put him in a open box with his blanket and walked about 2 miles with him to the vets. l got a tearful call from her after she left the vets and all she said was ‘Dad, he didn’t make it’. She wouldn’t leave him there and walked back home with him.
l’d set off home as soon as l got her first call but even so it took a couple of hours. She cried and cried but wanted him buried in the garden along with the presents she’d got him … it was a few days before Christmas.
To this day, l remember the tears rolling down my face as l buried him along with his still wrapped Christmas presents. Don’t know if l was shedding tears for my daughter or both of them. 🙁
She got another cat eventually and she was named Angel … and is still alive today, although she’s an old lady now. 🙂
For some reason, Minnie has been rejected by the other feral cats, which is probably why she is keen to move in with our tribe. One of ours doesn’t get on with her, but the rest do – the young Toms are actively friendly with her despite having had the snip (apart from Louis who is due soon).
Commiserations.
all the best.
John
And what a beauty. Sympathy. Weep a bit. Old friends deserve our tears.
Two old boys rule this house, siblings, sixteen years old, both with slow-moving (so far) renal failure. I’m dreading it, frankly.
He was a remarkably good looking cat. His three surviving sisters share his looks.
Thank you for that beautiful journey down your lane of memories of Ptolemy. As the owner of two cats, one of whom bears a striking resemblance to your Ptolemy, I’m sorry to hear your bad news.
But you can take comfort from having given him a caring home where he was able to live life to the full, and that he has given you such enduring fond memories.
Good luck with that little cutie who clearly wants the love of a good human.
.-= My last blog ..The Sun thinks it was Villa wot won it =-.
Many thanks for all your comments here. I had hoped that we would enjoy Ptolemy’s company for another three or four years. However, the old dicky ticker put paid to that one. We still have his mother, uncle and three sisters who are all – at the moment – in rude health.
What a pity, when they go they leave a gaping hole. Some say that cats aren’t as friendly as dogs, but we’ve found that once you get a cat’s affection it’s unwavering – and they’re more comfy on the knees too.
I’m sorry Ptolemy left you, but glad he went without help, and quickly. I hope ours is able to do the same.
Mark, I am so sorry you lost your dearly beloved friend Ptolemy. My thoughts are with you and yours at this time. The new addition looks a real sweetheart 🙂
I remember you losing one of yours while you were away from home. That makes it all the worse.
Yes, Minnie is a proper minx.