On Saturday, June 25, 2011, in the early morning hours, we lost one of our most beloved and cherished fur children, James Bond.
James was a domestic short hair red tabby cat. To say he was unique and absolutely beautiful would be an understatement. You see, James was poly dactyl, i.e., he had an extra thumb on each of his front paws, hence, he always looked like he was wearing a giant pair of mittens.
James was a rather large cat (around 23 pounds) and had a tiny meow...more of a squeak...definitely not what you would expect to come out of a cat his size. James is what you would call a gentle giant in every sense.
We were incredibly blessed to have James the cat as a member of our family for the last twelve plus years. He was around 4 years old when we rescued him. During that time, he brought immense love and joy into our home and touched the lives of every human and beast that he encountered.
Each morning, this big red boy would watch me put on my make-up as if somehow knowing that I was about to go out into the world and win his bread for him. While I was getting ready to leave the house, he would come up to me and give me gentle love-bites on my ankle...in the hopes that I would reach down and pick him up and/or pet him...which is always what happened.
Before I would go out the door, we had a daily ritual...I would pet the top of his head and exclaim, "You know James, it's good luck to rub the head of a red haired boy!" James looked back at me as if to say, "I know it."
During these last 12 years, I was the lucky recipient of everything James brought to the world...his constant display of unconditional love, his never-ending kindness to any human, creature, dogs, cats, birds, etc. I remember how he would rub up against our English Bulldog, Beatrice, who is also of blessed memory.
Through the years, I always thought we were the ones taking care of James...when in actuality, he was the one taking care of us. I remember the many times I would come home from work having experienced a particularly diffult day, he was always there to reach out his paw and rub his head on my leg...after a few minutes of therapy by James, my problems seemed quite trivial and all but forgotten.
Bruce and I won't be the only ones to feel the profound loss of James. Our little Chihuahua, Timmy, will miss him tremendously. Every day, Timmy loved to play with the kitty and James kindly obliged. He tolerated this little Chihuahua's over exuberance with the grace and patience of an elderly grandfather whose grandchildren were squealing with joy and crawling all over him.
I think James was extraordinarily responsive because we treated him as though he were human. But maybe that's the point...James wasn't human and therefore exhibited none of the human failings that disappoint us as people. He never put his paw in his mouth like so many people I've known. He wasn't in love with himself like the many narcissistic people in the world, he never demanded anything from anyone. He was content to give his love over and over and expected nothing in return. There was never any price to be paid.
Unfortunately, life does have its difficulties and prices to pay. James paid the ultimate price as a result of being diabetic for the last four years of his life. When we received the news that our much loved kitty was diabetic, there was no question we were going to do anything possible to give James the best quality of life.
James had a wonderful doctor, who I believe, loved him as much as we did. With this doctor's watchful eye and a good sound plan to address James' new diagnosis, we were all on board to support him. Over the next four years, Bruce and I gave James insulin injections twice daily. We took his blood sugars and were very fortunate to be able to get him regulated fairly quickly. Routinely, when Bruce and I would stop by the pharmacy for our own needs, Rich, the pharmacist, would ask, "How is James Bond doing?" It meant a great deal that so many people loved this rescued old alley cat and wanted the best for him.
James had a wonderful quality of life even though he was living as a diabetic. He spent his days basking in the sun thru the windows, lying at our feet while we were working on the computer or reading, rubbing up against every piece of furniture in our home and taking long naps on our sofa with his big soft head resting on his Neiman Marcus pillow. Even with all of this to live for, I guess G-d and James' body decided that it was time to take the final journey and go to the Rainbow Bridge.
James passed quietly in the wee hours of Saturday morning. Bruce and I took turns cradling him in our arms. We told him over and over how much we loved him and that it was okay for him to go...that we would be okay.
I would be lying if I didn't say that on that morning, I felt like I had a basketball in my throat and my eyes resembled Rocky Balboa (from all of the crying). I do, however, feel a certain joy and peace in my heart knowing that this wonderful creature that we've shared our lives with over the last several years, is now running free at the Rainbow Bridge...yes, I do believe animals go to Heaven. If anyone deserves to be there...it is without a doubt, James the Cat.
G-d bless you James...you will live in our hearts forever...until we meet again...
The Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All of the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly, he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together...
~ Author Unknown
Monday, June 27, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
For one Momma of furry kids to another, I am so very, very sorry for your loss...
ReplyDelete"No heaven will not ever Heaven be. Unless my cats are there to welcome me."
(Anonymous)