Remembering Skeeter

Today is Skeeter's Over The Bridge Day.  He was the first cat I ever chose on my own.  All the previous ones were rescues or "give-aways" as in "can you take an unwanted cat"?

Not that I didn't give love and care to the many grey tabby females who came my way.  I loved them and cared for them and gave them attention.  But Skeeter was the first one I had much choice about.  He was male (and I wasn't sure if that was good).  He was mostly orange (and that was different).  But even then, I didn't have much choice in the decision.

The little private pet store was being renovated.  There were workers with loud equipment and dust everywhere.  Alone in a small cage was this one little orange kitten, shaking in terror.  I had to save him.

I went in looking for a Siamese female (like my family had in my childhood).  I left with an orange male kitten trembling from the chaos.  And he terrified by white plastic bags all his life.  My guess is that "if you went into that white plastic bag, you never came back".  That was Halloween Day 1992.

He hid for 3 days.  I finally lured him out from the under-counter hidey-hole (that every kitten since has discovered) with some treats.  While he he desperately eating, I stroked him gently.  It may have been the first decent attention he ever received.

After that, there was no getting away from him.  He was at my feet all the hours I was at home.  When I returned home from work, he climbed up on me.  I still had a grey tabby female, but she was injured by a dog and was rather mean.  I was his sanctuary.  He slept under the blanket with me at night.

I didn't really understand at first, but I eventually figured out his desperate attention was his version of security.  I was his only "safe place".  I will never forget that sense of being so important to a cat.  It changed my life.

The grey tabby female (Tinkerbelle) and I got along fine, but I was mostly just food&shelter to her.  For Skeeter, I was life itself.

He got named "Skeeter" because he stayed around me like a mosquito.  Not to diminish all the happy grey tabbies who came before, but we just generally "shared space".  Skeeter occupied it desperately as if his life was on the line every day the first year.  

After a year, I finally understood he needed a friend for when I was away at work.  Tinkerbelle was kind of mean.  So exactly at Halloween Day again 1993, I went to the same pet store.  This time it was quiet.  There was a cage with 2 female kittens at the front.  I loved one friendly one, but was told it was being kept as a Honeymoon gift.  That left the unfriendly B&W one who kept .  I decided to take her.

It wasn't easy.  The owner had to literally pry her claws off the mesh cage.  She was not a happy kitty!  Like Skeeter, she hid in the hidey-hole for a couple of days.  She was happier to meet Skeeter.  It wasn't quite like Laz and Lori (50% maybe) but they got along.  And Skeeter had somekitty to spend the day with.  

Skeeter blossomed from scared lonely kitty to Protective Mancat.  He kept "mean old Tinkerbelle" away from her.  They often napped together, but mostly he guarded her.  I named her "LC"for "Little Cow" because of her colors.  

At least, they were good friends all their lives.  Sadly, Tinkerbelle was outside one day in 1999 and I (sadly) never saw her again.  So it was Skeeter and LC after that.

Skeeter remained very attached to me.  LC was attached to Skeeter.  He was my cat and LC was his.

When I retired in March 2006, it was the happiest day of Skeeter's life.  I was suddenly home all day.  Even approaching 14, he wanted very much to be near me all day.  I retired on the earliest day I could.  As much as he liked LC, I think 14-16 were the happiest 2 years of his life.  He adored my constant presence.

I know that seems self-glorifying, but he did.  He was around me all day.  I had to learn to shuffle my feet so that I wouldn't step on him.  He never forgot (I think) that I rescued him and gave him a good life.  

He sat on my lap anytime I sat down (and LC would sit next to him).

Skeeter is the reason I have the cat-blog.

He was sitting on my lap while I was reading another cat-blog, and I saw a button that said "start a blog".  That was August 2006.  I clicked it.  I'm not great at apps, so it took a couple days before I got it working. But Skeeter was on my lap the whole time.  I finally got a post up...

It was, of course, originally called "Skeeter and LC".  I was kind of dumb then.  It didn't really occur to me at the time that Skeeter was getting older. 

On this day in 2008, I had to bring Skeeter to the vet to be euthanized.  His kidneys were failing and he was suddenly falling over against the wall.  I held him in my arms as the Good Vet gave him the final shot.

I will never forget the drive home with him.  Just 2 miles and I had to pull off the road many times.  Brought his body into the house for LC and Ayla to sniff for understanding.

It took LC a month to get on my lap for attention.  And she left a year later.

Ayla remained, so I got her a companion (Iza).  

I went back and read the last posts about Skeeter earlier today.  It was hard.  But there were so many wonderful comments about him.  And from so many who are no longer with us.

I originally had a hole in my heart I thought could not be filled.  I've learned holes can be filled with new love.

But there will always be a special soft spot in the walls of my heart for Skeeter, my first chosen one and so attached to me...

24 years and sometimes I still I see him around.