Loss of an Awesome Cat

TomTom crossed the Rainbow Bridge at approximately 10:30 this morning.

Last night, he had been crying, and at 3AM, I took him to an emergency vet. The veterinary doctor there couldn't do much for him without his records and such, so, rather than hospitalize him there, I opted to wait until this morning to take him back to Lantana and Dr. Lon. I managed to get a short nap, and when I woke up, I checked on him in my room, and he was under my desk. I went to use the bathroom and brush my teeth, and when I came back, he was in his carrier, ready to go. So, I took him to Lantana and, while waiting for Dr. Lon, I bawled like a baby, holding him in a towel, apologizing for this not working out the way it was supposed to. He let me hold his paw and made a half-hearted attempt to lick my tears and my hand.

Dr. Lon was ready to help ease his passage, but offered an alternative of getting some fluids in him and trying some more aggressive drugs. He commented that what really sucks is that TomTom was such a nice cat. Friendly, cooperative... Older cats can be codger-like, but TomTom had such a pleasant personality. So, I decided to go ahead and give TomTom the chance, if he wanted to live. Still, I said my good-byes, in case the last-ditch effort didn't work.

I'd barely gotten home when I got the call from Dr. Lon that TomTom died while they were getting him all set up. His breathing became very erratic, and then he just went peacefully.

TomTom adopted us. Mom, Dad, and Mandie had come home from picking up Mandie's bassoon in New Jersey when they saw a kitten sitting on the stoop of the house across the street. We had a cream-colored kitten at the time, BamBam, and they thought BamBam had gotten out. So, Mandie scooped him up and said, "Yeah, looks like he lost his collar." They came in the house and asked me how BamBam got out. I said he hadn't and pointed to where BamBam was sitting. They looked a little more closely at this kitten and realized he had darker, more orange fur. So, they put him outside, saying, "Go find your home." Which, of course, he did by banging and crying at the door, as if to say, "I saw others of my kind in there! I know you like cats! Let me iiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnn!!!!"

So, we did. Suckers for hard-luck cases and all that.

First thing we did was put him in front of the food dish. He sniffed at it, then wandered away and started playing with the cat toys, pulling toys out of the baskets we have around the house. And when he was done, he put the toy back in the basket. Assuming he hadn't lost it under the furniture, of course.

He got excited at Christmas time because he knew he was going to get more toys.

He loved cotton candy and potato chips. He'd steal potato chips out of your hand if you weren't careful.

Rich had to pass inspection for him.

The last few years, he slept on my head. Not so great in the heat of summer, but, in the winter, it was quite nice to have my own purring face-warmer. His belly fur smelled nice, too.

He loved the computer. He'd chase the mouse cursor, watch YouTube videos with me, and, in the days of IM, would tap the keyboard and respond to IMs while I was away at class. But he would also sit on my desk and tell me it was time to go to bed.

After Mom had her hip replacement and got stuck on the couch one morning at 3AM, he stayed with her, licking her hand, while Rocky came to wake me up.

More recently, he stayed with me while I crawled down the hallway with my first kidney stone earlier this year.

He never had a problem with any of the other cats. He and YoYo broke into my room to greet Riffy the day I rescued him. He accepted and played with Rocky, which helped Rocky with his aggression and abandonment issues. He was welcoming to Minerva, even though she only ever hissed at him. Once he smacked Brandon and Bridgett, he accepted them and had no problem putting them in their place and beginning to teach them the rules of the house.

I'll miss his snuggling at night and his company when I'm watching TV. I'll even miss the 3AM caterwauling-like Celine Dion impressions.

He was truly an awesome cat and ran this household. I miss him terribly already and am torn up inside. I'm comforted by the fact, though, that he had 15 years with us, 15 years he might not have otherwise had, had we not taken him in. He had fleas, worms, and ear mites so bad it was like someone poured mud in his ears. He had cement in his paws where he'd walked through wet cement somewhere. He had a pressure burn on his back foot where he'd gotten caught in a door.

He came right up to us, as opposed to any kind of feral behavior. Someone threw away a really nice kitty.

He was an ambassador of catdom. He was intelligent to the point where you could see the gears turning as he studied something.

After 15 years of being there for us, for me, when I needed him...he's earned a rest.

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