Mortimer, 1993-2010
We got Mort in '93, while we were in the process of moving into our first house. We were driving back from lunch with the one person helping us move out of our flat, and Dave spotted a sign at a veterinary office saying "Free Kittens! 15% off vet bills for first year!" and so we stopped in.
The vet was excited when the three of us walked in, he had three kittens left in the litter. Dave explained we were just getting one, while I looked at the prospects. There was one growling and hissing, one cowering, and one just looking calm. I felt very pressured at first, and was getting ready to walk away when the calm one walked onto my shoulder and settled down, and I said, Ok, we'll take this one.
He started out about the size of a small grapefruit, if I rolled him up in my hands, which I often did. His hind feet were huge and rabbity and looked even bigger because of the color change from black to white at the ankles. I lost him for a week once, back in Denver, and I was miserable every day until I found him again.
Mort would follow me from room to room, he had a spot in every location I spent time in where he could watch me, if there wasn't lap space for him to be on me all the time. Under my loom, under my desk, there was always a ring of dark fur in some out of the way spot that marked his nest.
I have lived with many cats over the years, and none were as talkative as Mort. He would make a sound when he jumped up, jumped down, woke up, was startled, or just wondering where I was. Unlike most cats I've known, he would answer me when I called, and come running most of the time.
In the last year or so his health was going downhill, finally becoming too frail and ill to groom himself. We had him groomed by a cat specialist, and losing the hard mats made him seem much better, for a while. When he started vomiting every day, we talked to the vet and began giving him pills twice a day, which helped for a while. Then added another medication when those were failing. Giving him the medications was a struggle, unless we could catch him half asleep.
This last week we talked to the vet, and there was nothing more we could do to help. Dave made the arrangements, and we went in yesterday, Friday, and had him euthanized. They gave him a tranquilizer, and I held him and talked to him for a while before they gave him the final shot.
I haven't been telling people because I can't talk about it without breaking down. I keep looking for him. He's always right here, right there, I can't close the door yet I have to wait for my cat to follow.
I don't wish him back in all his misery, but I miss my cat.