This week's FFM story comes to us from the one and only bgcmeowrrrr!
All my cats have been strays, rescues, and castoffs, each with a tale too tall to be told in this short space of time. This one is dedicated to the mighty Squeeble!
Let's start with a couple of appetizer kittehs!
I don't have a photo of my first cat, but she resembled Heather, who we'll get to in a minute. My second, Mittens (pictured above), was insanely affectionate, something I needed in my sad home. They would always mysteriously vanish after hanging out for a few months and I was always heartbroken.
In 1974 Moondot (shown above conmmuning with Ceiling Cat) was born to an incestuous pair in my bedroom closet. She was highly singular for being a blue eyed white cat who wasn't deaf. In adulthood, she developed Ragdoll behavior and would play Monorail on any edge she could find, and once was seen to be sleeping precariously on my bicycle. She lived to 12, the most venerable feline I had cultivated up until that point.
In 1997, four kittens were found abandoned in the wild ivy behind my friend's home. I pegged a dark one with a red patch on her back for myself. This was Heather P Feather, she of the mustache face.
For the final appetizer kitteh, check the toes of Silvertoes! He has been a presence on my profile page for quite awhile. Famed for his polydactyly and utter cheekiness, he's now 5.
And now for the main course: Squeeble!
In 1990, a peach-point tinted skinny and dirty cat started lurking at our home in Pasadena. After a month or maybe a few weeks, we commenced to leave out food for 'it'. Said cat started vocalizing with a piteous plaint, sneezing all through the delivery. "This one's got the Feline AIDS for sure, don't get attached," I thought, having seen a number of afflicted felines pass through our yard over the previous years.
To our surprise, the dirt gradually fell away from the peachy coat and the weight filled out. I started crouching outside, coaxing this cat to stay and nom the victuals. Cat would greet us with loud calls punctuated by intense sneezing. One day, "Sneezy" (as I had started to call this organism) came right up to me and nuzzled my hand. Thereafter, whenever I got home from work, this CAT among CATS would run up to me, stand and pivot, and continually grab my hand, licking and kissing, all the way to the door. Was I blown out of the water!
First fur monster contact
We came to where we could stand around this furperson whilst the kibble was being chowed down. Good appetite! Then he (?) would start meowing in appreciation, which would set off a very messy set of sneezes, the produce landing on our shoes. *EW* Eventually we were able to trap him and get him to a vet.
Solving the sneezes
Yes he was a boyo. In fact, he was a NEUTERED boyo! The kicker was this; he had some kind of split in his palate, which was causing the contents of his mouth to migrate up through the cleft into his nose. It's surprising that he continued to live with such a condition for who knows how long!. We had him operated on, never to sneeze again except under ordinary circumstances. He continued to lodge with us out there in North Pasadena, greeting me and rising up to kiss my hand whenever I came home. I worried myself as to whether I should post "Lost Male Neutered Peach Point Cat found on Santa Rosa Ave." I Never did.
From Sneezy to Squeeble to loaf of bread
We had called him Sneezy. Then we called him Sneeble. After his surgery we called him Squeeble. (as in Squeebly!) He was such a treasure, so loving and darling. He never gave up his special greeting ritual during the course of his life. We had 9 happy years together; curled up on a table or bed, he would resemble a loaf of artisan bread.
An enigma, wrapped in a mystery, wrapped in a fur coat
I chatted up an exhibitor at a TICA show, asking how a cat could survive such a birth defect as Squeeble's. "Oh kittens never survive cleft palate, they die early or are put to sleep. Your cat may have been injured in such a way that his palate split upon impact." Ah, our little enigma.
In 1999 he started to act strange, chewing on himself, pulling out his fur, developing raw spots between his ears and eyes. There were unexpected multiple stressors that year. Soon after that my huzbing and I had to move up the hill from Pasadena to Altadena, did he know something sad was afoot? In the midst of moving, Tim developed angina. he was going to need multiple bypass surgery.
Soon after we moved, he escaped. Could not get him back in. Some night later we heard a squall nearby. Coyotes. I know they ended him and it still hurts to this day. But WE are grateful for the years of life we did provide him.
HAIL SQUEEBLE, Miracle Cat!!
- Reposted by