(no subject)
RIP Cuddles. 11/05/1989 - 03/02/2008
Cuddles with Quizno, 2004
It didn't come to a big surprise when I heard that Cuddles had passed away. But it doesn't make the loss any less, I suppose. So, as I do when pets die... I have to write a dumb letter to them because I'm a weird girl.
Cuddles,
I can't believe you hung in there as long as you did. 1989, wow. I remember when my mom brought you home. It was Christmas morning and you were Alicia's present. I remember this photograph of the two of you - and she is wearing the ugliest pants ever. I mean, even for the 90's, they were ugly. But we didn't have much money then, I suppose. We were living in a place called Cedar's of Chili. It was a complete hovel. HUD housing. Single mom with a deadbeat boyfriend. And yet, here came this other little life to be cared for.
At first, you hated me, didn't you? You'd always hiss and growl at me when I tried to cuddle you. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why in the hell they named you Cuddles. You were the single most un-cuddly cat ever. You were gorgeous, though. A little Sparticus cat; a Japanese bobtail. You had the best calico markings, but we called you Sparticus because of the thick black eyeliner you wore. Come on, now. You totally wore eyeliner. Because of that little bobtail nub of a tail you had, we called you all sorts of dumb crap. Nubbers. Nubby-nubs. Nubblins. Gosh, I hope you didn't get a complex over it!
From house to house, you followed us. I remember the second time that we ended up in Cedars, with all those redneck deadbeats. My mom saw a bunch of adults going across the road (to the woods) with shovels and a pitchfork. They seriously had a pitchfork. They told my mom, who had joined the rabble, that there was a wild bobcat on the loose and some guy had swerved to hit the beast with his car. And that it went to hide in a gopher hole. So they were going to dig the seventy pound cat out and kill it, so it didn't maul any of the neighborhood kids.
But it was you that they hit, wasn't it? That was the first time you had been hit by a car. It seemed that each place that we moved, your dumb ass got hit by a car. But you lived through them all. Five in total, if I remember right. Could have been other cats - I know Sammy got hit too... I'll have to ask my mom. She's the one that paid all your bills. You really used up your lives for that, didn't you? It makes me wonder how you made it to the ripe age of eighteen.
By the time we moved to Churchville, I understood why you were called Cuddles. You never stopped bothering us, did you? Always climbing on us. And farting. Oh my god, did you fart more than any other cat I knew. I remember Alicia would come home from college to see you and scoop you up in a hug. And she'd squeeze you and you'd purr... and fart. It was ridiculous. (And a little hillarious, let's be honest here.)
I don't know how many times I was crying in the basement and you found me and did what you did best. Cuddled. Things were hard, and I knew I could count on you. I didn't keep a journal then because I could talk to you. And you'd watch me like you understood. Maybe you did, I'm not going to argue that fact right now. But I did want to take the time to thank you for being such an awesome cat.
You out-lived Mitts, Tigger, Tobby, Sammy, Yodda, Crisco, Moho, Brittney, (countless rodent pets and fish) and Juliet. I don't know what kind of multi-vitamin you took, but it worked.
So thanks for all the years of farting and cuddles. I don't think that I can really be sad that you're gone because you lived a long and great life. You were always loved. You were always getting pets and hugs. You were never without love or shelter. So here's to you, Nubblins. I hope you're farting away in kitty heaven.
-Rhi
Cuddles with Quizno, 2004
It didn't come to a big surprise when I heard that Cuddles had passed away. But it doesn't make the loss any less, I suppose. So, as I do when pets die... I have to write a dumb letter to them because I'm a weird girl.
Cuddles,
I can't believe you hung in there as long as you did. 1989, wow. I remember when my mom brought you home. It was Christmas morning and you were Alicia's present. I remember this photograph of the two of you - and she is wearing the ugliest pants ever. I mean, even for the 90's, they were ugly. But we didn't have much money then, I suppose. We were living in a place called Cedar's of Chili. It was a complete hovel. HUD housing. Single mom with a deadbeat boyfriend. And yet, here came this other little life to be cared for.
At first, you hated me, didn't you? You'd always hiss and growl at me when I tried to cuddle you. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why in the hell they named you Cuddles. You were the single most un-cuddly cat ever. You were gorgeous, though. A little Sparticus cat; a Japanese bobtail. You had the best calico markings, but we called you Sparticus because of the thick black eyeliner you wore. Come on, now. You totally wore eyeliner. Because of that little bobtail nub of a tail you had, we called you all sorts of dumb crap. Nubbers. Nubby-nubs. Nubblins. Gosh, I hope you didn't get a complex over it!
From house to house, you followed us. I remember the second time that we ended up in Cedars, with all those redneck deadbeats. My mom saw a bunch of adults going across the road (to the woods) with shovels and a pitchfork. They seriously had a pitchfork. They told my mom, who had joined the rabble, that there was a wild bobcat on the loose and some guy had swerved to hit the beast with his car. And that it went to hide in a gopher hole. So they were going to dig the seventy pound cat out and kill it, so it didn't maul any of the neighborhood kids.
But it was you that they hit, wasn't it? That was the first time you had been hit by a car. It seemed that each place that we moved, your dumb ass got hit by a car. But you lived through them all. Five in total, if I remember right. Could have been other cats - I know Sammy got hit too... I'll have to ask my mom. She's the one that paid all your bills. You really used up your lives for that, didn't you? It makes me wonder how you made it to the ripe age of eighteen.
By the time we moved to Churchville, I understood why you were called Cuddles. You never stopped bothering us, did you? Always climbing on us. And farting. Oh my god, did you fart more than any other cat I knew. I remember Alicia would come home from college to see you and scoop you up in a hug. And she'd squeeze you and you'd purr... and fart. It was ridiculous. (And a little hillarious, let's be honest here.)
I don't know how many times I was crying in the basement and you found me and did what you did best. Cuddled. Things were hard, and I knew I could count on you. I didn't keep a journal then because I could talk to you. And you'd watch me like you understood. Maybe you did, I'm not going to argue that fact right now. But I did want to take the time to thank you for being such an awesome cat.
You out-lived Mitts, Tigger, Tobby, Sammy, Yodda, Crisco, Moho, Brittney, (countless rodent pets and fish) and Juliet. I don't know what kind of multi-vitamin you took, but it worked.
So thanks for all the years of farting and cuddles. I don't think that I can really be sad that you're gone because you lived a long and great life. You were always loved. You were always getting pets and hugs. You were never without love or shelter. So here's to you, Nubblins. I hope you're farting away in kitty heaven.
-Rhi