The first cat in my life (long gone; he died in 1974) was my grandmother's; Ruffin Baby lived to a biblical age as well - he lived to be twenty-four. He was a Siamese, and almost totally dark by the time I knew him, as he was so old.
I love Siamese cats. The landlady I was living with when I adopted Gypsy had one, too; before Gypsy showed up, she was my clear favorite among my landlady's cats.
This is lovely! Thank you so much for sharing their stories. :)
PS I love that gif. Story of my life! Mama, my baby who passed away a few months ago (she also lived to the ripe old age of 20), would do that all the time. And whenever I had to study or do homework, she would be sure to sit on my opened textbook or notebook. lol I miss her every day. I still cannot look at her photo, and I still can't think of her too much without feeling like weeping. It's something you never get over.
No, you don't ever get over losing them. They are, after all, part of our families!
And I figured that gif would strike a chord with most cat lovers. ;) Holly does this all the time, too; so did Gypsy -- hence two of the photos. (I actually have several more of those!) And all three of them took / take a great interest in any paperwork I bring home and spread out on my bed or living room table.
Well it doesn't seem to be doing much good, does it? If Holly decides she needs to be sitting between me and my laptop, I can try to move her to the side all I want; she'll just move back into position over and over again. Usually it's me who gives in first ... :)
Haha! Yes! They really do rule us, don't they? My cat Nuni is a talker--he constantly let's it be known if I'm annoying him. For example, he likes to sleep at the foot of my bed at night. If I dare move around too much in search of a comfortable position, he will actually scold me for disturbing him. lol They are too much.
That is hilarious -- and, I bet, frequently uncomfortable! But yes, we do let them rule us ... it's the only way to coexist with them, after all ... :)
Holly likes to sleep on the pillow next to mine -- now that she's alone, more than ever.
It's amazing how much these beautiful creatures find a place in our hearts and never leave. Thanks for sharing your kitties' stories. I have many in my past and two in my present, plus my first dog. They bring me many blessings each day.
Your cats are absolutely adorable and beautiful. And with those beautiful pictures you will always have something to remember them by.
We were forced to put down two of our cats due to kidney failure (they were family cats, so they were living with my parents). Nevertheless, they are sorely missed.
Thank you! And, yes, I actually brought all of them to Germany from CA. (Warning! LONG story to follow!!) This was, of course, the one part of my move that required the most planning (at one point, in order to spare them the plane trip, I even considered crossing the ocean by boat). Ultimately it turned out that paying my pet sitter's airfare to Europe (she was part French-Moroccan and took advantage of the opportunity to visit friends in Paris) was both the most economical and pet-friendly way to handle it, because that allowed her, my mom (who had come over to help with the move) and me to each take a cat carrier on our knees during the flight from L.A. to Frankfurt, and be there for the cats the entire time.
It still was a LONG trip for the kitties -- not only did they have to survive the 12 hours of flight, but of course they had to go into their carriers hours in advance, and in Germany there first was immigration (which thankfully went very quickly and smoothly) and then another 2 hours' worth of car trip, from Frankfurt to my mom's place in Bonn. At least we were there and the kitties didn't have to sit in the plane's cargo bay for hours on end, alone and in pitch-black darkness, and they also were on tranquilizer -- not completely "out;" just enough to hopefully keep them calm and anxiety-free -- but I would dearly have loved to give them more space to move around freely.
Gypsy and Tiger both handled the trip in an exemplary fashion; I was SO proud of them! Somehow they both seemed to understand that this was unavoidable and nothing truly bad was going to happen to them as long as I was there. For Tiger especially that was a brave attitude to take; she was barely a year old at the time! -- Gypsy, for his part, had already gone through more "involved" travel with me by then; we had not only moved from upstate NY to NJ together but also, a year later, from NJ to California ... by car. And somehow, ever since having been rescued, he had this complete and utterly touching trust that, as long as I was there, nothing bad was ever going to happen to him again. He'd get unruly and even unmanageable as soon as he felt abandoned (early on I had once left him in someone else's care in their house instead of my place for a two-week absence and he took to peeing on, and smashing things in protest), but as long as he felt safe -- either because he was in a familiar environment, or because I was there with him -- he just accepted everything that was going on without the slightest protest, and in total trust that whatever discomfort he was experiencing was surely both temporary and unavoidable.
Holly, alas, is different: There is *nothing* she hates as much as traveling -- even during a 5 minute trip to the vet she'll sit next to you, howling at the top of her voice the entire time. I've lately taken to even sparing her the pet carrier entirely; a leash and holster will do just as well (just don't ever try a simple collar; she'll strip those off faster than you can look, unless you fix them so tightly that you come close to choking her). I think it's the movement that disturbs her, and the instinctive knowledge that she is being taken away from her home without being able to do anything about it ... except howl. -- The tranquilizer was thankfully working well at least during the first half / two thirds of the flight from L.A. to Frankfurt, but in Holly it weaned off a bit too early and from then on, no amount of petting, snuggling, coaxing and treats would do: there was no mistaking (neither for me, nor for anybody else on the plane) that there was one mighty unhappy kitty among us. Forget babies registering their unhappiness during a flight. Holly easily out-yowls a whole nursery school if she feels the world needs to know she is unhappy -- and boy, did the world need to know that during the last hours of the flight. -- And yet, amazingly even she didn't blame any of it on me ... as soon as she was out of the carrier, all she wanted was more love and more snuggling!
Fortunately, all three cats recovered extremely quickly and none of them showed any signs of having suffered the slightest actual damage -- which only increased my love and respect for them, of course.
Interestingly, Holly seems to have developed a sense of language, incidentally, or more precisely, a sense of the way a language sounds. My American pet sitter spoke English to the cats of course, and so sometimes did I while we were living in the U.S. (and both Holly and Gypsy had of course also been around English speakers before I adopted them); so while at other times I spoke German to them, too, when living in the U.S., English sounds were the first human sounds they had ever heard. Now, on the other hand, it's all German -- but the funny thing is that Holly still seems to be particularly attracted by / to the English language. Whenever I talk to English speaking friends (or colleagues) on the phone, or on Skype, it takes a mere couple of seconds for Holly to show up and display a marked interest, as if the sounds of the language as such were still ringing a little bell inside her head -- whereas whenever I speak to someone on the phone and it's in German, she may or may not make her presence felt, but if she does, it's rarely as quickly, and almost always with an attitude of "you've been holding that thing to your head and talking to yourself long enough now, it's time you finally paid attention to me again," rather than, "hmm, I've heard those sorts of sounds before -- what's going on, why are you suddenly making those sounds again? Is this something I should be a part of?" :)
Amazing, and so, SO great that they let you travel with your cats in the cabin. We were not so lucky although we hired a pet transport service who swore to us they would travel in safe, pressurised and warm spaces. We couldn't use any sedatives either because the vet said there was the possibility of the cats dehydrating and being too chilled out to drink. Christmas made it through without a hitch; Boris tended to show his displeasure through his intestinal tract, so when he arrived at quarantine they needed to bathe him straight off. They said they didn't know he was an all-white cat until they rinsed the soap out. Luckily, he forgave quickly.
Oh, poor babies -- my heart goes out to them. And aren't they really the bravest and most remarkable creatures for taking this sort of thing and still going on loving us?
I really have to thank my petsitter for helping me with the move -- she'd organized a move involving cats before (though cross-country, not crossing an ocean) and she knew what types of pet carriers some airlines will accept inside the passenger cabin, and also which airlines these were -- luckily, one of them (at the time at least) was Lufthansa. Besides, she had worked in a vet's office, so she not only could help with the sedation and the medical aspects of the whole thing; it was just good to have her around for both company and advice all along. She also suggested for us to have fresh water and little syringes on hand for purposes of hydration during the flight, which was quite possibly *the* most important bit of advice she gave; well, in addition to the advice she'd given on arranging for passenger cabin transport in the first place.
Both she and the vet advised against all-out sedatives, too, btw, so all we gave the cats were minute and watered-down doses of tranqs, hoping they'd last long enough to keep the kitties calm and unworried at least until we'd gotten to Germany. Well, it worked with 2 out of 3 at least! ;)
She sounds perfect! If she ever moves to AU, let me know. :D
Unfortunately, cabin travel was not an option for us to AU because the AU government forbids it - they quarantine so strictly we weren't even allowed to see the cats when we landed and couldn't visit them at the quarantine facilities for the first 24 (48?) hours. After that, we were restricted as to how often we could go visit them (although once the staff at the facility got to know us, they were pretty lenient about that). That 30 days sucked more for us than the cats, I think.
Well, there's little I would rule out in Patty's life, so who knows? :)
I know about Australia's immigration restrictions; in a way, I'm amazed they let you bring your cats at all. (I'll never forget how before our first touch down on Australian soil, cabin personnel went through the whole plane with disinfectant spray in both their hands so as to make sure we weren't importing any germs or bugs that Australia's indigenous species weren't going to be able to deal with.) I can just imagine how glad both you *and* your cats must have been when they were finally allowed out of quarantine!
The first cat in my life (long gone; he died in 1974) was my grandmother's; Ruffin Baby lived to a biblical age as well - he lived to be twenty-four. He was a Siamese, and almost totally dark by the time I knew him, as he was so old.
I love Siamese cats. The landlady I was living with when I adopted Gypsy had one, too; before Gypsy showed up, she was my clear favorite among my landlady's cats.
PS I love that gif. Story of my life! Mama, my baby who passed away a few months ago (she also lived to the ripe old age of 20), would do that all the time. And whenever I had to study or do homework, she would be sure to sit on my opened textbook or notebook. lol I miss her every day. I still cannot look at her photo, and I still can't think of her too much without feeling like weeping. It's something you never get over.
And I figured that gif would strike a chord with most cat lovers. ;) Holly does this all the time, too; so did Gypsy -- hence two of the photos. (I actually have several more of those!) And all three of them took / take a great interest in any paperwork I bring home and spread out on my bed or living room table.
(ETA: Speak of the devil ...)
Holly likes to sleep on the pillow next to mine -- now that she's alone, more than ever.
We were forced to put down two of our cats due to kidney failure (they were family cats, so they were living with my parents). Nevertheless, they are sorely missed.
It still was a LONG trip for the kitties -- not only did they have to survive the 12 hours of flight, but of course they had to go into their carriers hours in advance, and in Germany there first was immigration (which thankfully went very quickly and smoothly) and then another 2 hours' worth of car trip, from Frankfurt to my mom's place in Bonn. At least we were there and the kitties didn't have to sit in the plane's cargo bay for hours on end, alone and in pitch-black darkness, and they also were on tranquilizer -- not completely "out;" just enough to hopefully keep them calm and anxiety-free -- but I would dearly have loved to give them more space to move around freely.
Gypsy and Tiger both handled the trip in an exemplary fashion; I was SO proud of them! Somehow they both seemed to understand that this was unavoidable and nothing truly bad was going to happen to them as long as I was there. For Tiger especially that was a brave attitude to take; she was barely a year old at the time! -- Gypsy, for his part, had already gone through more "involved" travel with me by then; we had not only moved from upstate NY to NJ together but also, a year later, from NJ to California ... by car. And somehow, ever since having been rescued, he had this complete and utterly touching trust that, as long as I was there, nothing bad was ever going to happen to him again. He'd get unruly and even unmanageable as soon as he felt abandoned (early on I had once left him in someone else's care in their house instead of my place for a two-week absence and he took to peeing on, and smashing things in protest), but as long as he felt safe -- either because he was in a familiar environment, or because I was there with him -- he just accepted everything that was going on without the slightest protest, and in total trust that whatever discomfort he was experiencing was surely both temporary and unavoidable.
Holly, alas, is different: There is *nothing* she hates as much as traveling -- even during a 5 minute trip to the vet she'll sit next to you, howling at the top of her voice the entire time. I've lately taken to even sparing her the pet carrier entirely; a leash and holster will do just as well (just don't ever try a simple collar; she'll strip those off faster than you can look, unless you fix them so tightly that you come close to choking her). I think it's the movement that disturbs her, and the instinctive knowledge that she is being taken away from her home without being able to do anything about it ... except howl. -- The tranquilizer was thankfully working well at least during the first half / two thirds of the flight from L.A. to Frankfurt, but in Holly it weaned off a bit too early and from then on, no amount of petting, snuggling, coaxing and treats would do: there was no mistaking (neither for me, nor for anybody else on the plane) that there was one mighty unhappy kitty among us. Forget babies registering their unhappiness during a flight. Holly easily out-yowls a whole nursery school if she feels the world needs to know she is unhappy -- and boy, did the world need to know that during the last hours of the flight. -- And yet, amazingly even she didn't blame any of it on me ... as soon as she was out of the carrier, all she wanted was more love and more snuggling!
Fortunately, all three cats recovered extremely quickly and none of them showed any signs of having suffered the slightest actual damage -- which only increased my love and respect for them, of course.
Interestingly, Holly seems to have developed a sense of language, incidentally, or more precisely, a sense of the way a language sounds. My American pet sitter spoke English to the cats of course, and so sometimes did I while we were living in the U.S. (and both Holly and Gypsy had of course also been around English speakers before I adopted them); so while at other times I spoke German to them, too, when living in the U.S., English sounds were the first human sounds they had ever heard. Now, on the other hand, it's all German -- but the funny thing is that Holly still seems to be particularly attracted by / to the English language. Whenever I talk to English speaking friends (or colleagues) on the phone, or on Skype, it takes a mere couple of seconds for Holly to show up and display a marked interest, as if the sounds of the language as such were still ringing a little bell inside her head -- whereas whenever I speak to someone on the phone and it's in German, she may or may not make her presence felt, but if she does, it's rarely as quickly, and almost always with an attitude of "you've been holding that thing to your head and talking to yourself long enough now, it's time you finally paid attention to me again," rather than, "hmm, I've heard those sorts of sounds before -- what's going on, why are you suddenly making those sounds again? Is this something I should be a part of?" :)
I really have to thank my petsitter for helping me with the move -- she'd organized a move involving cats before (though cross-country, not crossing an ocean) and she knew what types of pet carriers some airlines will accept inside the passenger cabin, and also which airlines these were -- luckily, one of them (at the time at least) was Lufthansa. Besides, she had worked in a vet's office, so she not only could help with the sedation and the medical aspects of the whole thing; it was just good to have her around for both company and advice all along. She also suggested for us to have fresh water and little syringes on hand for purposes of hydration during the flight, which was quite possibly *the* most important bit of advice she gave; well, in addition to the advice she'd given on arranging for passenger cabin transport in the first place.
Both she and the vet advised against all-out sedatives, too, btw, so all we gave the cats were minute and watered-down doses of tranqs, hoping they'd last long enough to keep the kitties calm and unworried at least until we'd gotten to Germany. Well, it worked with 2 out of 3 at least! ;)
Unfortunately, cabin travel was not an option for us to AU because the AU government forbids it - they quarantine so strictly we weren't even allowed to see the cats when we landed and couldn't visit them at the quarantine facilities for the first 24 (48?) hours. After that, we were restricted as to how often we could go visit them (although once the staff at the facility got to know us, they were pretty lenient about that). That 30 days sucked more for us than the cats, I think.
I know about Australia's immigration restrictions; in a way, I'm amazed they let you bring your cats at all. (I'll never forget how before our first touch down on Australian soil, cabin personnel went through the whole plane with disinfectant spray in both their hands so as to make sure we weren't importing any germs or bugs that Australia's indigenous species weren't going to be able to deal with.) I can just imagine how glad both you *and* your cats must have been when they were finally allowed out of quarantine!