So Nice to Pet You

As I write this, I am still in the aftermath of the too-soon death of my not-quite 5 year old cat Armando.

My precious snowy white boy found me by way of a chance meeting at Pet Food Express where I was grabbing a few items and chatting with a sales clerk about my job issues and how my pets (cats so far) were a light in an otherwise frustrating and sometimes disappointing life.  Another patron joined the conversation and told me she was trying to find homes for some kittens she had rescued and asked if I was interested in another cat.  My answer was a FIRM "NO" but after some good conversation, I did follow her to her car to see a tiny dirty 5 week old kitten that had been found in a field while it's mother seemed nowhere in sight.  The kitten needed care which "crazy cat lady" was in the process of giving her but had too much else to do as a full time dog walker.  We shared contact information and eventually I did meet with her just to take a look.  We went to her home high in the hills to see 5 more kittens that were white or mostly white, were altered and given shots and she was hoping to find them homes.

My childhood love was a white with red and black spots (calico?) mix who knew all my secrets, was an impressive bird killer, and whose white hairs marked my dark clothes.  I kind of promised myself, never another white cat or dog.

Do I need another cat?  What kind of a question is that?  Pets are not a necessity.  But once you let them into your life (or once they FIND you) love finds its way.  Pets are messy and an expensive non-essential habit.  Like children, you endear yourself to them (or with them) but they don't move away or spend all their time with their friends, on their smartphone or listening to music.  Each has a distinct personality and I have noted, they go through phases much like humans.

The kittens were adorable, about 5 months old and "Lucky" stood out straight away.  He had the most precious celadon green eyes, all soft plush white except a light grey U on his neck (hence she named him Lucky), large feet and very sweet, if shy, demeanor.  I told her I wanted him but would need a little time to get some things settled for him since I had just given notice at work and was not sure when the new job would be finalized...and I had 2 boy cats at home to consider.  We kept in contact and about 8 weeks later... Armando ('Mondo) joined and many other annoying names I gave him.  Jasper (my then 11 year old dark brown boy) was OK with the new guy but Peter (my then 10 year old semi feral tabby) wanted nothing to do with a baby brother.

Armando was loving and sweet upon first coming home.  We took it slow - he lived in a large cage in my room for 2 weeks.  My oldest Jasper was the epitome of benevolence (until you cross him) but Peter (previously the baby, now the middle "brofur") was jealous.  'Mondo wanted to be together, wanted to be with his brofurs and pretty much followed them around.  He would melt into me when I picked him up and melt on me when he came to lie down.  

I didn't see it at first but over time, Peter would lash out at Mondo and later I would find him alone and give him special attention, profess my undying love and promised him one day life would be about precious Armando.  Just over 2 years into our life together, brofur Jasper left us after 13 awesome years together and signs of hyperthyroid and possibly congestive heart failure.  Peter and I were distraught and since Jasper was kind to Mondo, I'm sure Armando was sad too.  I think the next 2 years is where Pete increased in aggression towards Mondo.  I tried a few things to reduce aggression: pet therapist, a few products that claimed to neutralize aggression.  Actually, what seemed to work best was when I lied down in between them and talked with them while petting them. Armando started pee'ing on things: the sofa, the front doorway.

Exactly 2 years later and I felt like we were settling into a routine and recall, in my mind - Pete will be 15 this year.  I'm thinking he is too old to be too mean to Mondo but Pete persisted.  I continue telling Mondo one day you will be king and it will be all about you.  This was a lie as on Easter morning 2018, upon returning from doing some pet sitting for about 2 hours, I came home to find Armando laying on the living room floor.  Dead.  The vet thinks it was likely a heart attack (or stroke).  He died just shy of his 5th birthday.  Peter was fine with this.  I am broken.  Armando was my joy.

Before him, I have felt the empty space of friends and family and numerous other pets who have gone over the rainbow bridge.  Grief is grief but it is slightly different for pets.  With people we have our words and our time we spend together.  We can say goodbye and I'll miss you or I'll never forget you.  Sometimes, as with Armando, you have no time to say anything and in your guilt you wonder if the pet understood how much you loved them.

With pets, are relationships different?  Is grief different because we don't have words?

I will explore the relationships we have with them and the connection those of us who admit we have



Pretty white boy
constant purring

Hiding in my closet or under the bed

Leaping up to me in my bedroom to get another pet (like a goat)
How I loved your squeek, your desire to be Pete's friend, your bunny soft fur and playing in the Kitty Block with absolute joy.