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We have never had to seek out pets to adopt into our home…they have always found their way to us. We love them unreservedly in the brief time we’re allotted with them, and mourn the loss of a family member when it is their time to go.
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Yesterday we lost our boy, Oreo, a sturdy, handsome tomcat inclined to stride about the cul-de-sac, asserting himself as the neighbourhood’s top feline, only to return home and immediately snuggle up in whichever warm lap was available to him.
Oreo was the grandson of our petite tortoiseshell cat, Zoe, though at twice her size and inclined to play rough, there was little matrilineal similarity. Zoe came to us unexpectedly one Sunday afternoon as we explored an old graveyard, cleaning off headstones to read the wonderful words generations past used to honour their loved ones. .
A sudden squeal of brakes near the entrance caused us to turn, just in time to see a girl step out of her car, toss something roughly into the trees, and quickly peel out again. Seconds later, we heard a shrill, forlorn howl, and on racing down to help, came across the smallest, sweetest kitten I’d ever seen. In that instant, Zoe became part of our family.
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Tiny and young as she was, we did not realize she was coming into heat, and in no time understood she would soon be having her first, and only, litter. The next-door neighbours requested a kitten, and though we warned them to avoid our huge error in judgment, they failed to have their cat spayed, and more kittens were soon on the way. From this litter came a cheeky black and white fellow their kids named Oreo.
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In time, the people next door moved to a new house, a few blocks north of us on the other side of a busy street. Imagine my surprise, then, when I went out to the yard a few days later to find Oreo looking at home on the warm top of our picnic table. Luckily we had exchanged phone numbers before their move. We were able to advise his owners that their cat had returned to his old neighbourhood, and handed him over when they came by that night to reclaim him.
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Two days later, Oreo was back, meowing a greeting to me from the picnic table as if that was exactly where he was supposed to be. We were not able to reach the owners quickly this time. We left a message on their answering machine but they did not come for a couple of days.
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Oreo was definitely a leaner cat than he’d been and happily tucked into the food I began to regularly place in front of him.
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Meeghan and Oreo with their toys
When the old neighbours finally showed up, we voiced our concern about the dangerous main road Oreo had to cross to find his way to us, and repeated our advice that he be kept indoors until he got used to the new house. Though they vehemently promised to do that, Oreo was back the very next day.
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This time, we did not phone…clearly when his owners noticed him missing, they would know where to find him. As several days passed wherein they neither phoned nor dropped by, Oreo effortlessly joined our family and has been with us ever since.
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On Saturday afternoon, he could be seen sitting in the driveway, as he liked to do, surveying his little world with satisfaction. After supper, our son, J.J., came to tell us Oreo was dragging a back leg. It seemed reminiscent of an earlier leg injury, earned upholding his reputation as a scrappy cat, and with our son Jules holding him, we hurried out to the animal emergency hospital.
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Expecting another cast and a plastic collar, we grew concerned when the vet spent overlong on his examination, and even more concerned that Oreo’s entire hind end now dragged behind when he tried to walk. We had never heard of Arterial Thromboembulisn, (ATE), a frightening condition that strikes without warning. The vet explained that a blood clot had shot to the aorta, blocking blood to the legs and hip and instantly cutting of circulation. Cats Stricken with ATE are literally fine one moment and paralyzed the next.
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The vet advised leaving him overnight, where he could hook Oreo up to an I.V. and administer meds to help with the considerable pain, but warned us gently that the prognosis was not good…once one rhombus has been thrown, more usually follow.
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We got the call at six a.m. to say our beautiful boy had passed away. I am grateful it was swift and his pain was short-lived, but am lost without his large presence in our too-quiet house.
You know we loved you fiercely, Oreo, and you showed us every day how much you loved us. I'm sure by now you’ve found Angel and curled up on the couch beside her as you used to do.
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Please take very good care of each other until we see you both again…
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