.jpg)
My husband and I are grieving a tragic loss. It has hit our household hard and shaken the foundations of the peaceful and happy life we have built these 12 years together. Almost half of these years were filled with sweetness and joy by the presence of our beloved cat, Vittles. You may think it silly to speak so affectionately of a cat or describe such a heavy grief for the loss of one, but I can promise you it is not an exaggeration. Truth be told, words fail to express how precious Vittles was to us or how heavy the loss of him feels. Vittles was special in an inexpressible way, something I couldn't explain to you no matter how hard I may try. Fortunately, he was also special in describable ways, as well. Vittles was unlike other cats, and I can say that with some authority as we have had 5 and both grew up around cats. He was more loyal and friendly than any dog, but in a non oppressive way. He was sweet and kind and it may sound cliche or untrue but I can say with certainty that he took care of us just as much, if not more, than we took care of him.
I would never say a dog is man's best friend anyway but especially after seeing how Vittles loved my husband Gabe. Ever since he was a tiny kitten he would follow him around, shower him with affection, and stay by his side. He would often meow wanting to be picked up and held. I've never seen a cat who loved being held the way Vittles did. He would even let Gabe hold him belly up like a baby which anyone who knows cats will tell you is a no-no. He would purr loudly and rub his face and head in Gabe's beard. When he was small he would climb all over Gabe while he sat at his art desk and sit on his shoulders or head watching him draw, and later fall asleep on him. In spite of this special bond he never snubbed me. He would come up to me while I worked or did homework and want to crawl up in my lap. He loved to get under a blanket and would stay until he got so warm he would burst out and go lie on the hard floor to cool off. He preferred Gabe but if he wasn't home Vittles would sometimes meow until I picked him up and he would let me pet him, rub his belly, and sit in my lap like a human until he had his fill of affection and left my heart full of joy. Anxiety, stress and sadness melted away in the presence of Vittles. He was spectacular in that way.
Unlike other cats, even if you wanted to be with him and sought him out he would oblige. You could pick him up and move him to be in your lap or even spoon him on the couch or bed and he would stay, purring happily. He was a large cat, the seed of a big beefy Tom cat, but he was as gentle and sweet as teddy bear. He would let you pick him up and hug him and he would even hug you back. He would let me carry him on my hip like a baby, something I enjoyed more before he was fully grown and got extremely heavy. Our other cats are sweet in their own way but they can be needy and I find it, I'm ashamed to say, sometimes annoying. Crying when they want attention or pets and often distracting me from what I'm trying to do, something that is frustrating for someone like me who struggles with motivation and focus and mostly works from home. Vittles wasn't like that. He was content and happy. He rarely meowed for attention but even if he did, he was happy to just sit in your lap. If I was too engrossed in my work with my lap taken up by books or a laptop, whereas my other cats will fuss or try to walk on my stuff or head butt the monitor, he would sit right next to me with his paws gently resting on my leg. He would often sleep in a box we made into a cat bed on the floor next to Gabe's art desk. He was often content to just be near you. He would sometimes cry wanting us to fill the food bowl, but half the time we would fill it only for him to step aside and our more meek fur baby, Chai, to come and eat. We were convinced he was asking on her behalf. 
It may sound cruel to say it, but any one of our other 3 cats could have passed, and while still sad, it would have been more bearable than losing Vittles. Our oldest Ani, is a loveable lap cat who will snuggle anyone and sleeps with us at night. She's very friendly and stays near us, always happy to have a lap if we want her with us. She's well behaved and calm but she's also getting old for a cat. She's now 15 and we've been mentally preparing not knowing when we'll have to say goodbye. She's a bit of a grump, too, in her old age and though she makes us laugh, it would be easy to comfort ourselves thinking she's in a better place and more at peace. She's had more health problems and issues and doesn't enjoy the company of the other cats. I've sometimes felt sorry that we couldn't wait until after she had passed to get more cats, that maybe she would have been happier, but I could never really regret getting Vittles because as I've been saying, he was the best cat. Chai is the next and though she is sweet and a beautiful fluffy cat with silky soft fur she often keeps to herself. Except for when she wants attention in which case she can be annoyingly persistent and breaks your heart with her adorable face if you don't drop everything to play with or pet her. She's your typical 'fraidy cat who hides from everything. She's more quiet and forlorn and is not much for snuggles with anyone but Vittles. We used to joke she was more his cat than ours. Georgie is the youngest and we've had her less than a year. She's had the most trouble adapting and appears to have experienced some kind of trauma. She's more aggressive, and we had to work really hard to tame her. She's a sweet cat now who will snuggle from time to time and stays near us but we've been more prepared should something happen since we don't know where she came from and she's had the most issues. She struggles with feeling anxious and afraid and she's more likely to bite, claw or hiss out of all the cats. Every cat hisses or grumps from time to time but not Vittles. He never hissed at us since his earliest days of being a tiny kitten hiding behind the toilet not knowing if he could trust us. But once we gained his trust he loved us unconditionally from that moment on. He never grumped or growled either, like I said, you could even pick him up and move him around without protest. The other cats not so much.
They all have their quirks and we love them all but no one was as friendly, lovable, and happy as Vittles. I can't say he's better off because he was happy and healthy. I can't say he's at peace now because I've never seen a cat more at peace than he. I can't say his suffering is over because he wasn't sick or suffering that we know of. We have very little comfort to offer ourselves. All we know is we had the most amazing, friendliest, sweetest cat we've ever seen or heard of for 6 sweet short years. Half our married life was shared with this precious friend. He made our house a home, greeting us whenever we arrived, especially Gabe, with pure joy at our presence. Contentedly sitting where we worked, just happy to be near us. Bringing us more laughter and smiles and happy sighs than I can count. Petting cats is scientifically proven to reduce stress, anxiety, and sadness but most cats have a limit to how much they will tolerate you petting their silky, soft coats. Not Vittles. He'd let you gently stroke him for hours, he was never bothered. But if you were busy and couldn't pet him, he didn't mind, either. He would just be on standby, happy to be with you.
He was so big and our house so small that sometimes he would walk or stand in a tight but high traffic area and I would trip over him, always crying out, "Vittles!" in exasperation. He had this adorable ashamed look when he was scolded. Gabe and I would laugh and I would pet him, telling him to watch where he was walking and stay out from under my feet. Our other cats are too small and too quick to ever be tripped over. They are so spry and cautious they would weave through my legs or zip out of the way, in most cases without me even noticing. Ani may not be spry anymore, our old girl, but she's old and lazy so she never really gets in my way. She spends most of her time napping with very simple routes to the food bowl, litter box, and water. How I wish now that I were stumbling over that big furry lug again. That I would walk by the bedroom and see him lying on the bed like a cat loaf and the magnetism of his cuteness draw me in, as it always did, and divert from whatever I was doing for a short snuggle break with little Vittles. That I would step into the office to check on Gabe or ask a question and see him holding Vittles in his lap, laughing as the huge cat head butted him affectionately and aggressively stroked his face against his beard. I would laugh and be overcome with happiness at their adorable joy in one another, as I always was.
All I know is we are here, in this suddenly quiet and lonely house, filled with sadness and bewilderment. Everywhere we look there is a trace of Vittles, no part of our home or our lives went untouched. We were proud cat people and loved telling people we had "4 cats in a 700 square foot house" and watching their various humorous reactions. We loved telling stories about him and showing any of the plethora of adorable pictures. The comic we create is named after and based on him, how he changed our lives for the better and is filled with funny stories based on real things he and Ani did. Our walls are lined with artwork from the comic, illustrations of Vittles. The background on my phone is a funny picture of him I snapped one day as I walked into a room and laughed at the way he was lying on his back and looking at me upside down with silly expression like "what?". His favorite places to nap. The giant box from a Christmas present he loved to climb into and play in. The bed he and Chai always snuggled in, now painfully sparse with just her small, lonely form. The closets he tried to sneak into when I wasn't paying attention. The front door he always loved to stick his nose out and smell the fresh air and see the sights every time we opened it until, in most cases, we had to shoo him out of the way when it was time to close it. The back door we could open and he'd sit staring out the glass storm door watching the squirrels and birds in the back yard. The food bowls that have barely been touched without his voracious appetite and Chai too sad to eat. My spot on the bed where I found him the night before he passed, and so I moved him but pulled him under the blanket and he stayed and snuggled me until I felt asleep, purring and happy and warm. The treats he loved so much he would do tricks like "shake" and "high five" to get. The empty box cat bed by Gabe's desk. The sadness in everyone's eyes. The piles of tissues in every room.
Vittles, you were such a happy and sweet boy. You shared that happiness with everyone. Even the comics we based on you bring smiles to everyone who reads them. My lap is now cold and heart is empty without your warm, weighted snuggles to assure me everything will be okay. I don't know what happened and I'm sorry we couldn't save you, but please know that we tried. I thought we'd have so many more years to cherish and share your silly goofiness, your sweet kindness, and your comforting dependability. I'm glad we spoiled you with treats and special food often. I'm glad we worked from home and got to be with you most days. You were the best office mate, art assistant, and study buddy we could ever ask for. You were the star of every video call, the highlight of our stories, and the supermodel of our Google photos accounts. I never imagined our life without you, I thought we had so much more time, but it's surely more empty and sad than I ever could have. You brought joy to each of us that the lack of is vast and apparent. The gaping hole in our hearts is undoubtedly Vittles shaped.
I guess you were such a big boy because you had such a big heart with so much love to give. Our life was sad and bland before we found you. We were struggling and everything seemed dreary and gray. I can't say that it was only you who brought the light and warmth that we came to know, but it was certainly in part from you. The shift is undeniable. My only comfort is that we loved you well and cherished you. We cared for you and let you care for us, and we relished every minute of it. I wish we had many more years to be together. I wanted you to be there in the future we are working towards. I wanted to keep writing Vittles & Co. for years to come and share your adorable sweetness with the world to bring some version of that happiness you gave us to others. I wanted to make a better life for all of us. I wanted you to be there in our next house with room to run and lots of windows that get the maximum sun. I wanted to enjoy our success by giving you the best of things. I dreamt of that. You would have loved the things I had planned.
I would never say a dog is man's best friend anyway but especially after seeing how Vittles loved my husband Gabe. Ever since he was a tiny kitten he would follow him around, shower him with affection, and stay by his side. He would often meow wanting to be picked up and held. I've never seen a cat who loved being held the way Vittles did. He would even let Gabe hold him belly up like a baby which anyone who knows cats will tell you is a no-no. He would purr loudly and rub his face and head in Gabe's beard. When he was small he would climb all over Gabe while he sat at his art desk and sit on his shoulders or head watching him draw, and later fall asleep on him. In spite of this special bond he never snubbed me. He would come up to me while I worked or did homework and want to crawl up in my lap. He loved to get under a blanket and would stay until he got so warm he would burst out and go lie on the hard floor to cool off. He preferred Gabe but if he wasn't home Vittles would sometimes meow until I picked him up and he would let me pet him, rub his belly, and sit in my lap like a human until he had his fill of affection and left my heart full of joy. Anxiety, stress and sadness melted away in the presence of Vittles. He was spectacular in that way. 
Unlike other cats, even if you wanted to be with him and sought him out he would oblige. You could pick him up and move him to be in your lap or even spoon him on the couch or bed and he would stay, purring happily. He was a large cat, the seed of a big beefy Tom cat, but he was as gentle and sweet as teddy bear. He would let you pick him up and hug him and he would even hug you back. He would let me carry him on my hip like a baby, something I enjoyed more before he was fully grown and got extremely heavy. Our other cats are sweet in their own way but they can be needy and I find it, I'm ashamed to say, sometimes annoying. Crying when they want attention or pets and often distracting me from what I'm trying to do, something that is frustrating for someone like me who struggles with motivation and focus and mostly works from home. Vittles wasn't like that. He was content and happy. He rarely meowed for attention but even if he did, he was happy to just sit in your lap. If I was too engrossed in my work with my lap taken up by books or a laptop, whereas my other cats will fuss or try to walk on my stuff or head butt the monitor, he would sit right next to me with his paws gently resting on my leg. He would often sleep in a box we made into a cat bed on the floor next to Gabe's art desk. He was often content to just be near you. He would sometimes cry wanting us to fill the food bowl, but half the time we would fill it only for him to step aside and our more meek fur baby, Chai, to come and eat. We were convinced he was asking on her behalf. 
He and Chai were the best of friends. It has been even more heartbreaking to watch her grieve now that he is gone. He was her big brother from the moment we brought her home, a tiny feisty ball of fluff. Though he was scared at first, it didn't take long before they were running around the house playing together and snuggling in the most adorable ways. Though our other cats tolerate each other, every single one loved Vittles. The snuggle fests that were common in the window seat or on the sofa may be gone with him. He was the common denominator, the sweet and gentle glue that brought harmony to our little band of felines. He would defend Chai if Georgie played too rough, laughably at times merely sitting on her until she calmed down and stopped biting everyone. He was the only one Ani would let near her when she was awake, and he didn't mind if she was a little grumpy, which she often was.
It may sound cruel to say it, but any one of our other 3 cats could have passed, and while still sad, it would have been more bearable than losing Vittles. Our oldest Ani, is a loveable lap cat who will snuggle anyone and sleeps with us at night. She's very friendly and stays near us, always happy to have a lap if we want her with us. She's well behaved and calm but she's also getting old for a cat. She's now 15 and we've been mentally preparing not knowing when we'll have to say goodbye. She's a bit of a grump, too, in her old age and though she makes us laugh, it would be easy to comfort ourselves thinking she's in a better place and more at peace. She's had more health problems and issues and doesn't enjoy the company of the other cats. I've sometimes felt sorry that we couldn't wait until after she had passed to get more cats, that maybe she would have been happier, but I could never really regret getting Vittles because as I've been saying, he was the best cat. Chai is the next and though she is sweet and a beautiful fluffy cat with silky soft fur she often keeps to herself. Except for when she wants attention in which case she can be annoyingly persistent and breaks your heart with her adorable face if you don't drop everything to play with or pet her. She's your typical 'fraidy cat who hides from everything. She's more quiet and forlorn and is not much for snuggles with anyone but Vittles. We used to joke she was more his cat than ours. Georgie is the youngest and we've had her less than a year. She's had the most trouble adapting and appears to have experienced some kind of trauma. She's more aggressive, and we had to work really hard to tame her. She's a sweet cat now who will snuggle from time to time and stays near us but we've been more prepared should something happen since we don't know where she came from and she's had the most issues. She struggles with feeling anxious and afraid and she's more likely to bite, claw or hiss out of all the cats. Every cat hisses or grumps from time to time but not Vittles. He never hissed at us since his earliest days of being a tiny kitten hiding behind the toilet not knowing if he could trust us. But once we gained his trust he loved us unconditionally from that moment on. He never grumped or growled either, like I said, you could even pick him up and move him around without protest. The other cats not so much. 
They all have their quirks and we love them all but no one was as friendly, lovable, and happy as Vittles. I can't say he's better off because he was happy and healthy. I can't say he's at peace now because I've never seen a cat more at peace than he. I can't say his suffering is over because he wasn't sick or suffering that we know of. We have very little comfort to offer ourselves. All we know is we had the most amazing, friendliest, sweetest cat we've ever seen or heard of for 6 sweet short years. Half our married life was shared with this precious friend. He made our house a home, greeting us whenever we arrived, especially Gabe, with pure joy at our presence. Contentedly sitting where we worked, just happy to be near us. Bringing us more laughter and smiles and happy sighs than I can count. Petting cats is scientifically proven to reduce stress, anxiety, and sadness but most cats have a limit to how much they will tolerate you petting their silky, soft coats. Not Vittles. He'd let you gently stroke him for hours, he was never bothered. But if you were busy and couldn't pet him, he didn't mind, either. He would just be on standby, happy to be with you. He had his idiosyncrasies, too. Occasionally he did annoy me with his mewing, if I was in the kitchen cooking. Especially if I was opening cans of tuna, or really any cans, and he happened to notice, or he smelled something promising. He would stand at my feet and loudly mew as if he hadn't eaten in days. All the cats would gather at the sound, sometimes joining in, sure there was something to be had. Gabriel would laugh at this, and then I would laugh too at his unquenchable hope no matter how much I scolded, that something good was coming his way. If he wasn't too naughty with his begging, we'd sometimes give them a treat. You're probably thinking that's why he did it but you didn't see his adorable hopeful face looking at me with such confidence. He just knew I always had something good for him. That simple confident faith was riveting, and irresistible. I couldn't disappoint him. He also used to dip his paws in the water bowl. No one knows where he got this idea but even Ani, our other cat, thought this behavior was weird. He would dip his paw in the water and lick it off. We would sometimes step in wet paw tracks he left behind which was frustrating, but you couldn't help but laugh. And now I only wish that loud, obnoxious meow would appear when I'm standing in the kitchen or a wet trail from the water bowl was the least of my sorrows. I would accept any amount of wet socks, distracted cooking, giant bags of food and cat litter, dealing with tracking and scooping and smell of cat boxes, the expense of it all, to have our furry friend back. Even at the pinnacle of my minor annoyance with any of these things I never begrudged him, because I loved him and I knew he was worth it.
He was so big and our house so small that sometimes he would walk or stand in a tight but high traffic area and I would trip over him, always crying out, "Vittles!" in exasperation. He had this adorable ashamed look when he was scolded. Gabe and I would laugh and I would pet him, telling him to watch where he was walking and stay out from under my feet. Our other cats are too small and too quick to ever be tripped over. They are so spry and cautious they would weave through my legs or zip out of the way, in most cases without me even noticing. Ani may not be spry anymore, our old girl, but she's old and lazy so she never really gets in my way. She spends most of her time napping with very simple routes to the food bowl, litter box, and water. How I wish now that I were stumbling over that big furry lug again. That I would walk by the bedroom and see him lying on the bed like a cat loaf and the magnetism of his cuteness draw me in, as it always did, and divert from whatever I was doing for a short snuggle break with little Vittles. That I would step into the office to check on Gabe or ask a question and see him holding Vittles in his lap, laughing as the huge cat head butted him affectionately and aggressively stroked his face against his beard. I would laugh and be overcome with happiness at their adorable joy in one another, as I always was. 
All I know is we are here, in this suddenly quiet and lonely house, filled with sadness and bewilderment. Everywhere we look there is a trace of Vittles, no part of our home or our lives went untouched. We were proud cat people and loved telling people we had "4 cats in a 700 square foot house" and watching their various humorous reactions. We loved telling stories about him and showing any of the plethora of adorable pictures. The comic we create is named after and based on him, how he changed our lives for the better and is filled with funny stories based on real things he and Ani did. Our walls are lined with artwork from the comic, illustrations of Vittles. The background on my phone is a funny picture of him I snapped one day as I walked into a room and laughed at the way he was lying on his back and looking at me upside down with silly expression like "what?". His favorite places to nap. The giant box from a Christmas present he loved to climb into and play in. The bed he and Chai always snuggled in, now painfully sparse with just her small, lonely form. The closets he tried to sneak into when I wasn't paying attention. The front door he always loved to stick his nose out and smell the fresh air and see the sights every time we opened it until, in most cases, we had to shoo him out of the way when it was time to close it. The back door we could open and he'd sit staring out the glass storm door watching the squirrels and birds in the back yard. The food bowls that have barely been touched without his voracious appetite and Chai too sad to eat. My spot on the bed where I found him the night before he passed, and so I moved him but pulled him under the blanket and he stayed and snuggled me until I felt asleep, purring and happy and warm. The treats he loved so much he would do tricks like "shake" and "high five" to get. The empty box cat bed by Gabe's desk. The sadness in everyone's eyes. The piles of tissues in every room. 
Vittles, you were such a happy and sweet boy. You shared that happiness with everyone. Even the comics we based on you bring smiles to everyone who reads them. My lap is now cold and heart is empty without your warm, weighted snuggles to assure me everything will be okay. I don't know what happened and I'm sorry we couldn't save you, but please know that we tried. I thought we'd have so many more years to cherish and share your silly goofiness, your sweet kindness, and your comforting dependability. I'm glad we spoiled you with treats and special food often. I'm glad we worked from home and got to be with you most days. You were the best office mate, art assistant, and study buddy we could ever ask for. You were the star of every video call, the highlight of our stories, and the supermodel of our Google photos accounts. I never imagined our life without you, I thought we had so much more time, but it's surely more empty and sad than I ever could have. You brought joy to each of us that the lack of is vast and apparent. The gaping hole in our hearts is undoubtedly Vittles shaped.
I guess you were such a big boy because you had such a big heart with so much love to give. Our life was sad and bland before we found you. We were struggling and everything seemed dreary and gray. I can't say that it was only you who brought the light and warmth that we came to know, but it was certainly in part from you. The shift is undeniable. My only comfort is that we loved you well and cherished you. We cared for you and let you care for us, and we relished every minute of it. I wish we had many more years to be together. I wanted you to be there in the future we are working towards. I wanted to keep writing Vittles & Co. for years to come and share your adorable sweetness with the world to bring some version of that happiness you gave us to others. I wanted to make a better life for all of us. I wanted you to be there in our next house with room to run and lots of windows that get the maximum sun. I wanted to enjoy our success by giving you the best of things. I dreamt of that. You would have loved the things I had planned. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you. I didn't know anything was wrong and there wasn't enough time. I wish we could have saved you. I wish you were still here. But I promise to finish your story, so people can still share in the happiness you brought. I promise to plant flowers on your grave so you can continue bringing life and joy to those around you. I promise to cherish the memories of those short, sweet years we had together. I promise never to forget you, you know I never could. I promise to take care of Gabe and do my best to fill your unbelievably large shoes. I promise to look after Chai and try to comfort her and make her happy. I'll take care of the grumps, Ani and Georgie, too. They loved you in spite of themselves and I know you loved them, too. I'll miss you, sweet boy. It may be silly and outlandish for a theology major to say, but I hope I see you again. You weren't just a cat. You were never just a cat. You were something special, indescribable and irreplaceable. We'll carry you in our hearts forever. Goodbye, sweet friend. I love you more than even makes sense. Thank you for everything.
Comments
Post a Comment