Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Smokey, ? To Dec. 10 2008...

     It's a sad day for the Johnson family, I received this text from my sister at noon today; "Mom just phoned and told me that Smokey has to go to the kitty box in the sky." Smokey was a Russian Blue (at least that's what we think he is) cat and great friend of the family. He had  developed a feline version of HIV, had a tumor behind his eye and wasn't eating or drinking--it happened  fast, he only got sick last week. I called my Mom right away and felt bad for her, she was so upset because they were just taking him to be put down (kudos to Ma and Pa for not letting him suffer). I can't believe it, I'm welling up as I write this, we sure get attached to the critters...I didn't even realize I was this attached to him...

           He looks fairly slim in this shot...Does the camera add 10 lbs to cats?

     I know everybody says it about their pets but this one was unique, actually more like a dog than a cat. Whenever I visited he would come to greet me at the front door while my Mom's other cat, Pooty (I think that's how you spell it) would run for cover. It's funny to because he seemed particularly drawn to me...Mom used to call him my brother, the one I never had. Smokey (I affectionately called him Lumpy because of his girth) would follow me until I sat down and hang around my feet waiting to be scratched, especially on his back but just about anywhere would suffice. He'd finally nip at you (but never bite) and then make the strangest sound like he was actually trying to talk...

                           Smokey in mid scratch.

                 Rolling over like a dog.
                     
        He had developed these mats on his back at the base of his tail a while back so Mom had taken him in to have them shaved off. The people that groomed him said the reason he had the mats there was because he was too fat to reach that area when he was cleaning so she would have to brush him, which he loved anyway . Mom tried the diet thing to no avail. Like Dad said,"How do you put a cat on a diet?"

       My parents originally got Smokey from the SPCA about five years ago when Pooty mysteriously vanished, they figured raccoons had probably got her. After waiting a few weeks they decided to  get a new cat and as soon as they did Pooty returned-- a little haggard and skinny but no worse for wear.

     The story the SPCA told about Smokey was that he was found on a picnic table at a rest stop along the highway. He was wearing one of those spiked collars that bulldogs often sport and Dad thought he must have been a biker cat. They guessed his age at 3 of 4 when they got him so that would have made him around 8 or 9 today. Smokey you will definitely be missed, RIP.

    I'm not sure if there's a heaven (lump in throat, watery eyes, runny nose) but if there is and I make it there it would be kind of cool if the first "person" to greet me was Smokey, sauntering up looking for a little tickle...

                   Last Christmas.




Probably corny but whatever, it's still a pretty good Billy Joel song.

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