When I first saw you in the pet shop, you were sitting up high on an old tree trunk and looking as if you owned the whole shop. You were very small, but I knew you were going to be fluffy. You were black but with a tinge of brown on what would be a ruff around your neck. The first thing I did was take you to the vet. You were pronounced healthy and I took you home to our menagerie of two Boxer dogs, one Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, and our other lovely fluffy domestic cat, Chinkapook. I couldn’t think of a name as strange and wonderful as Chinkapook’s, so I called you Bob. Chinkapook was not too impressed at another cat coming to live with us, but he got used to you. You got on well with the other animals, but Chinkapook was a little rough with you when you were a kitten, but later you were bigger than him. You became best friends and curled up together whenever you could.
You always loved to be up high, so you could survey your kingdom. If you were not on the top of the kitchen cupboards, you were on the stereo or the fridge. When you used to sit on top of the fridge and I ran my finger around the edge, you would pat my fingers with your paw, not a claw out. Even when we had play-fights and you rabbit-kicked my arms, your claws were still retracted. You were the most gentle of giants. You had the most marvelous purr, it was loud and enthusiastic. I always felt truly loved when you sat next to me and surrounded me with sound.
When you were a tiny kitten, every time I put you down I kissed you. Smart cat that you were, you realized that if you wanted to get down, all you had to do was kiss me. When you had had enough you would push your face onto my mouth and voila down you would go. It became a game, you would want to get down and I would want lots of kisses. I would say, “Give me a kiss” and you would kiss me, I’d ask again and again until finally you would get cross and kiss me savagely, smashing your face into mine. I would take this as a subtle hint and let you go.
Before you were de-sexed you had come to sexual maturity early. Although you were not old enough to pursue female cats, you regularly had sexual encounters with my dressing gown or my T-shirt. You would hold the material firmly in your mouth and knead it feverishly with your front paws, while your bottom end would pump up and down with a furious pace. After you were de-sexed you did not give up this pass-time but wore a puzzled look thereafter.
You became a truly huge cat. Not fat but muscled and heavy. You always looked as if you owned the whole world. Sometimes I would look across the yard and see a big black shadow in the long grass, and then I would see your huge yellow eyes regarding me loftily. Because you owned the world, even another kitten didn’t faze you one bit. When Sapph became one of the family, you took it in your stride, she was the one who hissed. She became the home cat, and you were the wanderer. At night when she had to be inside you were out roaming until late. I always persevered and brought you in some time during the night though. Also if you decided you wanted to come in you plucked the fly-wire screen on my bedroom window. You spoke to me, and I did your bidding.
When you became sick, I knew you were in pain. We tried so hard, you and I and the vet. What hurts the most is that we were never able to discover what exactly was wrong with you. You spent time at the vets, and when you came home, I had to become used to giving you medication. How hard you fought me. At times you appeared so well, that I thought you had completely recovered. After you first got sick, I began to treasure the days. I am glad I did treasure these moments because I had only nine more weeks with you. I watched you grow thin. You stayed inside much more, and slept just outside the back door in the day time. You still played with me, kissed me, and still patted my fingers when you sat on the fridge. When I was in bed, you curled up in your usual place next to me and purred. As always you looked like the owner of me and the whole world.
At the time when I thought that you had recovered, you got sick for the last time. I felt under your stomach and there was loose flesh hanging down. You had lost so much weight, but because you were such a fluffy cat it wasn’t noticeable. I knew the time had come, but I didn’t think I could do what I knew was the kindest thing. I rang the vet and made an appointment. For the last two hours of your life, you lay on the bed next to me and purred. You shifted time and time again, because of the pain but you purred on. As you purred I cried and cried because I loved you so much and couldn’t think of life without you.
The vet asked me if I wanted to go out of the room while you were put down, but I couldn’t leave you. I held you as he injected you and I watched as the life went out of your eyes. I cried as you left Bob and I am crying now as I write this. I cried on the way home, as I dug your grave and laid you to rest under the nectarine tree in flower. I shook the tree and the petals fell over you. I put all the flowers I could find on you, then I covered you up. I shook the tree again and laid more flowers. And I cried.
Bob was not the kind of cat who sat on your lap for hours. He sat and kneaded you, purred incredibly loudly and then left. When he lay on the bed next to me it would be for a short time, not all night. What he gave me was quality time. Quality time was all that he had to give. I loved you so much Bob, and I know that you loved me. There will NEVER be another Bob. I am crying Bob, crying for you. I love you. Six years was not long enough, but I will treasure the memories of those six years of quality time, just as I treasured you in life.
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