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    • CommentAuthorTimbo
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    Sorry to hear about your cat's passing.

    @government spy is spot on about winning a cat's heart.

    Please accept my condolences.
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010 edited
    My two, both getting on a little, were rescue cats from the Liverpool Cats' Protection League. The place was bursting to the rafters with cages of cats and I would've taken home every last one of them if I they'd let me.
    I was just about to adopt two tiny, colourful fluff balls (yep, they resembled tribbles) when I looked in the cage next door. It housed two adolescent, mid-sized, black witch's cats, who, they said, were siblings. Apparently, they'd previously been re-homed twice but returned to the CPL. The bigger male (eventually christened Eric) had, and still has, the biggest yellow-green eyes I'd ever seen. The more kitten-like female (now called Treacle, by way of a brief stint as Josephine) was huddled right in the back corner, bristling, spitting and hissing at me. It was love at first sight.
    Almost 14 years later, they're both still lively & healthy - Eric following me everywhere and only drinking out of the kitchen sink whilst still-tiny Treacle plays Special Forces Ninja and remains hidden until she wants food.
    Anyway, these are my first pets (that is such an inadequate word) so, while I can't say I know how your family (or any of you others) feel, the thought of losing my hair-shedding, pee-spreading, shit-stinking (the litter tray room, not them) companions just makes me crumple internally.
    I hope you all, particularly Lili, cope with Anton's departure as well as can ever be expected.
    Now I'm off to risk a finger or two and have a play with Treacle.
    • CommentAuthordaen
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    Cats are such odd creatures: free spirits who, for some reason, choose to sometimes share life's journey with monkeys.

    I miss having a cat.

    My dad and stepmum live in the countryside in the hills of northern California, where winters can be a bit chilly. The house is a hippy construction: insulation came late into the mix. Jane is my sister's grey cat, left with the parents when she moved to Maui with her husband after he landed the job as an editor on one of the papers there. I stayed with dad last winter, and took to sitting in a wicker chair by the heat of the old stove, late at night, listening to the wind and rain rattling the trees outside. To start with, Jane avoided me, in a very serious way, lurking under the stairs and regarding me balefully, light from the stove reflecting back twofold from green eyes, until I got paranoid and went to bed. It was her chair, you see, and I absolutely, definitely wasn't supposed to be in it. One evening, for no reason I can fathom, she jumped on my lap, kneaded my legs with razor claws, and curled up, purring. We'd had precisely zero physical contact before that. I stroked her back, haltingly at first, then more confidently, prompting her to purr louder and roll over on her back so I could stroke her furry belly. It's precisely that trust, carefully given, easily lost, that make cats so special, and constantly surprise me, and melt my heart.

    I am sure you and Anton had many moments like this, and I am so sorry he has gone.
  1.  (8946.44)
    Bye, Anton, you sound like you lived an excellent kitty-style life despite it's unpromising start.

    My deepest condolences to everyone who knew him, especially those with the heart to rescue him when it was most important.
  2.  (8946.45)
    Never has the tale of someone's pet moved me so much...thank you Mr. Ellis and thank you Anton for being here...
    • CommentAuthorMr Wolf
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    Over the last twenty or so years I've been lucky enough to have a number of rescue cats come and live with me. The only one who wasn't a rescue was a big ginger sod who turned up one day in my kitchen, helping himself to the other cats' food. His commando raids increased in frequency to such a point that he was basically camping out with the others and I found out from one of the neighbours that he'd lived rough around the backs of the houses for at least two years, helping himself from the bins at the back of the chip shop. One day I woke up to what I though was a heart attack only to find him kipping on my chest... At that point I knew he was in for good and, when we moved, he came with us though he never forgave me for having his knackers whipped off. He was The Boglin and he adopted me as his personal human for the next twelve years until, like Anton, he just wound down. It's a terrible thing to go through and all the good words in the world won't make a damn's worth of difference at the time as grief takes over but all companions, whether cats, dogs or whatever, doubtlessly enrich our lives and make us better people. I know The Boglin did to me and it's obvious Anton did the same for you. Your posting brought all the memories and emotions flooding back and made me cry, which I rarely do. Thank you.
    • CommentAuthorRedBloc
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    Condolences to you and yours...
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    To Anton. He was there, and we all know it.

    And condolences, of course.
    • CommentAuthorhank
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    Our condolences. It's never easy to say goodbye to a long time friend.
    • CommentTimeSep 21st 2010
    Sorry to hear it. I really don't know what to say. I've only ever had a fish, and that's just not the same. I've always wanted a night-murderer, but my mom wouldn't let me get one, and now my housing doesn't allow it. I can only imagine the loss, and it sounds absolutely awful. You gave that creature so many more years of life, for which I'm sure he was grateful. Condolences to you and your family.
  3.  (8946.51)
    Just rescued a hit runaway off the highway today, only to have the owner insist it be killed for its broken leg. In light of this, I feel a bit of warmth that Anton, by comparison or otherwise, knew love and decency and a probably pretty good life. Still, condolences, of course, but yeah, some thanks, too, because there are barely enough decent people, and sane pet-people, some days.
  4.  (8946.52)
    I lost my beloved Ezra, a fine member of the Black Cat community, two years ago. He'd been my best friend for sixteen years, patiently sitting by while I played with toys, warming my chest while I slept, telling me 'No. Stop', when I was up late with the laptop, and acting as the third parent to my little sister. One day he simply chose to walk out and find a cradle in the roots of a frost-coated dead pine, and when we took him in we stayed vigilant over his body until his death in the morning.

    It's always hard, and desperately the walls of the house themselves have had something scraped off so that they lose their colour, or a smell that was ever-present in the air has been torn away, so that you feel constantly reminded that it's gone but only half-able to remember what it was like.

    The family have just managed to get a new black kitten, named Cyrus, the week before I left for my second year at Uni and officially Moved Out. He is pointy-eared and curious, and sits like a little golem on my dad's laptop for the warmth and light. He'll be a great cat. I'll be somewhere else. Remembering.

    I read Warren's piece on Anton with a familiarity and empathy that I've rarely felt for any eulogy, especially a human's. Poe wrote about a black cat following the man who killed them. When they die of their own accord, the opposite happens; you realise that one less person is following you.
  5.  (8946.53)
    Wow. Sorry to hear about it; We've got six cats here, down from seven last year when one died of cancer, and I dread losing any of them.

    I have to say, that piece of writing about him was one of the most powerful things I've read in awhile. Just damn good. You know how good it is when you're sharing it with everyone you know...
      CommentAuthorcity creed
    • CommentTimeSep 22nd 2010
    ^ I agree with this (and the same sentiment expressed by many others here in their own way) wholeheartedly. Powerful and very moving words. Bless you for writing them Warren.

    I used to have a little kitteh but she died of a stomach tumour before she was 3 years old. Not hardly the same as your lengthy acquaintance with Anton, but a sad business nonetheless.

    I hope this doesn't upset anyone but isn't it funny how we can get so affected by such small, short-lived, silly creatures? It's easy to say, well it's just a cat, but actually, that distinction really doesn't matter very much at all. A pal is a pal. A loss is a loss.

    My best to you and yours.
    • CommentAuthornj_jcarter
    • CommentTimeSep 27th 2010
    Poor Anton. Poor Warren. My love to you and yours. Hug all your other kitties extra tight because they'll be missing Anton as well. The story of Anton made me tear up but I'm a man damnit so I was able to suppress the urge despite it's strength.

    My favorite person in the world (don't tell my wife) is around 16. Velvet was a shelter kitty and I have had her since she was about one. She's is my first and I love her so much. I am trying to remain childish in my perspective on reality and hope this will shield me from the idea that one day she might pass. As far as I know she'll live forever (It's working!). That's what I hope at least.

    Anton is alive in all of our hearts. We all have an Anton.
    • CommentAuthorLostTexan
    • CommentTimeOct 1st 2010
    Not being cat people - I was shocked at how much this touched me - showed it to the missus she cried and then we poured liquor on the dirt like Anton was kin. I hope we scream at the world before we check out as well.

    Our condolences to you and your family.