blogblog SyKoHPaTh

Memorial: Professor Stinker

I got our cat "Professor Stinker" 10 or so years ago.

He was walking out in the middle of the desert-area behind the condos, and one of our friends at the time found him. It was a pet-free complex, but screw that shit, we took him anyway. We never got caught the whole time we lived there. Thinking he was abandonded, we put an ad in the paper to make sure he wasn't lost, and didn't find any "missing pet" posts for a few weeks, so we kept him.

He had a wonderful temperament, and was already fixed, too. We moved across country. He HATED to be in a cat carrier, so for the first 4 hours of the 2200 mile trip, he hurt his nose on the carrier until I said "let him out" so he could walk around the U-Haul cab. He loved it - he spent most of his time in my lap, and up on the dash in the window.

One of my favorite pictures is of him lying on the dash (the other favorite pic is of him sitting on the coffee table, during his "fat" stage). At the new place, he was a indoor/outdoor cat, since the place we lived at was a shithole, and had a door with a large hole in it (can't count how many possums I had to chase out through there). He fought with the local neighborhood cat (who later "adopted" us by laying on the couch when we came back from a vacation once - we called him "Evil Kitty"), until we got that cat fixed. Got divorced, and she kept the majority of material crap - stuff I didn't really care about anyway, except for a few sentimental things. I wanted a new start, but dammit, I was taking the cats. I even took the neighborhood cat.

I moved in with a friend (he had a cat too!), so we were up to having 4 cats in the house at one time. This place was more out in the woods, and a few times I took Stinker for "walks" with me out in the woods. Got a better job, and moved into my own place...he moved with me again, but I made him full-indoor cat. He still snuck outside whenever he could - if the door wasn't closed all the way (or still space while closing), he would run out. Heck, if the door wasn't latched properly, he could pull the door open and run out. Most of his days he was around me; if he wasn't in my lap, he was sleeping on the bed, or by my feet.

I got a better job, and moved AGAIN. He lived in the new, much larger house for about a month. Took him into a new vet to get his teeth cleaned. Brought him home, and he was howling, and could barely walk. Kept bringing him back to the vet, but everything "checked out fine". After a few days for the medicine to be completely gone, he didn't improve. In fact, he got worse. Apparently he had a stroke (was blind, and lost most of the use of his back legs), and must have had smaller strokes after.

By Friday (took him in for teeth cleaning on monday), he couldn't even stand or move his legs. He wasn't improving at all, so had to take him in to be put down. You bet your ass I stayed with him. Even though he couldn't see, I made sure he could smell me. He went to sleep as peacefully as he could. I had the option to keep his ashes, or to have them scattered. Since I found him out in the wild, no idea where he came from; I think it best to have him go a similar way.

cat, sad