Tiger

Tiger and Lucy, our litter mate kittens, turned 14 at the start of this month.  Tiger is showing signs of his age.  He has begun to be confused; on some days and he stands in the living room and meows until he recognizes one of us.  

Earlier this month, he had a seizure in the morning.  His presence in our world has been a steady source of comfort and love since that day in October 2006 when we first went to the shelter and invited he and Lucy to join our family.  

Tiger and Lucy came into our family in a very hard year and these tiny creatures helped me teach JT to love unconditionally and without fear. They made our house a home again.

As Tiger lapses into what is clearly the last chapter of his life, I remind him that we won’t let him suffer, that we will honor the love and affection he has shown us, with care and love of our own.  Daily, I ask the universe for the knowledge to know when it’s time to say our last goodbye.  It’s a hard thing to do, to selflessly love a creature with no conditions and no reservations, but that is what Tiger reminded us to do.  So we will return the favor when the time comes.

Expert

I am due for some time off and intend to take a few days on either side of July 4.  In preparation for what I am treating as my festival of rest and relaxation, I intend to get some tips from Tiger.

I think that he could teach me a thing or two on the art of letting go and enjoying a summer nap.

Tiger and Sunlight

February seems prepared to wring the most chill out of its short 28 days.  Another cold snap is headed our way this week.  It will start with icy rain and sleet tonight and the forecast promises single digit temperatures by the end of the week.  Tiger isn’t fretting about any of this, sure in the knowledge that his kibble bowl will stay full and confident that somewhere in the house, the sun will shine in to warm him.

I’m jealous.

Tiger

My cats are litter mates and though Tiger is quite a bit larger than the petite Lucy, they look alike.  The similarities are only fur-deep, as these two have very different personalities.  Among the differences is the degree to which they miss us when we are away from home.  Lucy seems not to care one iota.  But Tiger clearly struggles when we are away because when we return, he promptly glues himself to my side.  Here he is on the table next to my electronics, throwing caution to the wind despite the fact that I have a spray bottle of water to keep him off the table.

At night, when I tuck into bed, Tiger joins me, making himself a little nest right next to me.

Mostly, I don't mind.  That's a good thing, as he's not to be deterred.

Rescue Cats

A few weeks ago, I read a terrific article in the NY Times magazine.  Melissa Fay Greene's story, "Wonder Dog" talked about the use of service dogs to help with disabled kids, including children with autism and other behavioral spectrum disorders.  It was a powerful story about our human need to love and and be loved and the ability of love to help struggling children and their families to find peace and comfort in their sometimes difficult lives.

In particular, there was a story of one child, a boy named Iyal, who was born in a Russian orphanage and adopted by an American family at the age of one.  As Iyal grew up, it became clear that he has a range of disorders resulting from fetal alcohol syndrome.  For Iyal and his family, a rescue dog named Chancer has been a godsend, providing comfort and relief to Iyal and his family.  "Wonder Dog" is amazing and well-worth your time.  It will make you grateful for the blessings in your own world, of course.  It will also remind you of the power of animals in our lives.  As for me, the story of Chancer got me thinking about my own pets, Tiger and Lucy.

The kittens came to our lives in 2006.  We got them on a sunny Friday in October, three months into the year in which JT and I were learning to manage the break-up of our family.  Tiger and Lucy were litter mates we adopted from a local animal shelter.  On the advice of several friends, we decided to get two kittens so that they would have one another's company when we were at school.  We each selected and named a kitten.  JT picked out Tiger and I found Lucy. They climbed right into the box and you can see the pride and excitement on my boy's face as we carried home the newest members of our family.

Once home, they settled right in as if they had known all along that they belonged with us. 

JT was always happy to wrangle them to sit on his lap.

He loved them to distraction, filling their bowls with kibble and water and talking excitedly about seeing them when we drove home from school each day.  By happy coincidence, Tiger, the kitten JT had selected, was the more cuddly of the two, always eager to be by JT's side and providing the sort of unconditional love that helped to heal his heart.

By Christmas of that year, we couldn't imagine life without these two creatures.

In ways inestimable, Tiger and Lucy made our home feel full and complete.  We'd watch them in the window as we drove off to school in the morning and they'd be waiting by the front door when they heard us arrive home in the afternoon.

 They'd join us for stories when it came time to tuck JT into bed each night.  They'd race up and down the stairs and make us laugh.  And then they would cuddle up in our laps whenever the opportunity arose.

In countless ways, they rescued us both in that hard year.  Nearly six years later, our hearts are healed but Tiger and Lucy are still a powerful reminder of the healing power of pets.

Tiger at Rest

Tiger's favorite time of the week is that moment when I change the sheets on the beds.  He especially enjoys tucking under the sheets and quilts at the foot of the bed and then reaching out a long paw to grab the unsuspecting passer-by.  He'll stay tucked under the sheets for a while, looking forward to catching his victim unawares.

Cunning as he is, I usually avoid getting scratched in this game.  Last week when I changed my sheets, I tucked him in as usual.  He consented to a  few photos before he demanded that I bring him a pillow and the remote control so he could enjoy kibble in my bed.

Undignified

I've known a lot of cats, but to my recollection none like to have their belly rubbed as much as Tiger.  Most days when we come in the front door, Tiger is laid out on the living room with all four of his paws in the air and a hopeful look on his furry little face.

He looks somewhat ridiculous, but he gets a lot of belly-rubbing out of this ploy so I suppose it doesn't really matter how undignified he seems.  Still, I can't help but wonder if he was a dog in one of his previous lives.