Today we will remember Texas, Mom and Dad's kitty that came Before.
It is hard for them to believe that it has been a whole year since Texas went to the bridge because his cancer had spread. We tried to show pictures that hadn't been posted on his blog before, since we know that most of his friends are now our friends and therefore have read his blog. Mom has also written a tribute to him at the bottom.
[Update for Cindy and any other cats or beans that are curious: Click Here to see why it is called "going to the bridge"]
Here is a picture of him trying to open his mail, shortly before he went to the bridge.
The rest of these are from happier times, before he got sick. Here is him claiming a Wii controller as his own.
FEED ME NOW, Mom.
Sleeping on Mom's computer chair.
Helping rip up the old carpet.
Playing String with the Beans.
Today is the anniversary of one of the saddest days of my entire life. But I know he would not want to remember the bad things. He would want me to remember the good things.
So I will try to remember. I remember how we got him. There was an ad on the bulletin board that a cat needed a good home. His first Mom, Ms.C, who is now a friend of ours, had to move, and could not take more than 2 of her cats with her. Texas really wanted to be an only cat anyway, so we found out this was really for the best. And he definitely enjoyed it when Ms.C would come visit him here!
He was a BIG kitty. But he was terrified when he came here. He stayed by our roommate's fridge in the basement for about 4 days and would not leave. He barely ate for a few days. But then, we came downstairs one day to find that he was eating. And not only that, he had a very unique way of eating! He would carefully pick out his dry food and swish it around in his water, and then eat it. We showed all our friends and everybody was just absolutely amazed and no one had seen anything like it before. It was so fun to watch.
A few years after we got him, we had a minor mouse problem for a few months. He would always dutifully bring them to his Dad (DEFINITELY not me, he knew better!!) and Dad would dispose of them. Well one day, not really meaning it of course, I asked him if he really had to kill them. Well, the next time he brought Dad a mouse, Dad asked for it, and Texas would not give it up. Texas gave him Dad asked for it several more times, and finally Texas gave a "are you sure?" look, and released it-- ALIVE. From then on, all of the mice he brought Dad were alive. (Granted, we only ever had a total of maybe 10 mice in the house ever, so we are talking about maybe 5 or 6 times here). Dad was nice enough to then put the mice in a container and walk them several blocks from the house before releasing them.
Texas loved to chase "imaginary mice" too. After starting chemo, Mom knew she had her Texie back for a little while when he started doing that again, at least for a few weeks.
He also loved to look out the window and sniff and sniff and sniff. But he didn't like outside all that much. He would lay in the grass for a little while, but then when a car would come by he would run back to the house and that would be it for that day.
He loved to play "Lion Tamer" with his Dad. Dad found out one time when yawning that Texas absolutely loved to sniff an open mouth for some reason.
He also loved people food. He "begged like a dog", according to our roommate. After starting chemo it was just a waiting game for several days to see if he would recover. Mom's birthday was shortly after he got sick, and Dad had promised to make Mom a candlelit dinner at home to celebrate. She didn't really feel like celebrating because she was still so worried about him. But as Dad was cooking dinner, Texas came upstairs for the first time in about a week! And he didn't just slowly wander around. No, he RAN around the living room, climbing on another chair near the table, BEGGING and meowing and meowing and meowing for some of our dinner. That was the best birthday present ever.
We will see him again at the bridge one day. For now, he lives in our hearts. We love you, Big Guy.