My early adult years were spent without pets mostly because I lived in apartments that did not allow pets. During the first three years I lived in Philadelphia, I bought Fred (in 1997), my pet albino rat, and though I was quite attached to him, no one every considered him a "pet" including my landlord. Fred had a stroke one weekend while I was visiting my boyfriend in New Jersey. I never forgave myself for leaving him alone. I had to have Fred euthanized by a vet the following weekend. I will not even reveal the price I had to pay. The vet gave me some time to share an Enteman's eclair with him, our favorite Sunday ritual while I read the NY Times.
Fast forward 2001. I was dating Chip* and I told him I would love to have a Siamese cat as a Christmas present. He introduced me to a pet store in Princeton, NJ, a store that was known for taking good care of their pets. They had a kennel with Siamese cats, sleeping. I walked over to that kennel, and before I even touched the cage, one of the brothers lept from the cage into my arms, and began to purr and i knew this was my kitten.
For weeks I could not decide on a name. I kept calling to him as "Kitty with no name" so one of my coworkers said OK use "KWNN" (Kitty With No Name) and throw a vowel in there. That is exactly what I did. I chose "I." Kwinn.
This cat was my shadow. He demanded--and if you've ever owned a Siamese cat, you know exactly what I am talking about--that I pay attention to him and love him and feed him. He was my baby. A year later I got Kat, my Russian Blue as a companion.
They lived together in mutual discord, hating each other while depending on each other. It was a strange relationship. We made the difficult choice to put our beloved Kat down in May of 2015. Kwinn was lonely. He may have been happy to be the only cat on board, but he was also lonely. We decided to get two new kittens, This way, he wouldn't be alone, but the kittens would leave him be and play with each other. It worked mostly as we expected, except Opal, our new little female kitten immediately saw Kwinn as a father figure and followed him EVERYWHERE! He was not amused until he was. I would catch him growling at her one minute, then grooming her the next.
This lasted for a y ear until Kwinn, almost 16, began to lose weight, which for a Siamese, is a huge deal. He was so frail and tiny but he would not 'give up the ghost." One morning, as I was getting ready for work, Pat and I looked at him and with tears in our eyes, we knew we had to take him to the vet. Dr. Hunt told us to come right away. We did. She did some blood work and told us his organs were shutting down. We knew we had to say goodbye.
She gave him the first injection to make him sleepy. I couldn't stay through this procedure with Kat, but because Kwinn was my child, my love, my hope, my light, I had no choice. He was combative until the injection, then he began to lick his lips and purr as Pat and I touched his frail body. It was the first time I'd seen him relaxed in such a long time. I kissed him and snuggled my face into his. He was my world and I still dream of him often. Pat and I both saw him that night, independently. I know I spoke so sweetly of Kat in her eulogy post, but I could not bring myself to speak of Kwinn, until now. I found his mahogany box of ashes in my closet last week. I picked up the box and kissed it, then held it to my heart. My heart, where he already lives.
When I wrote I about Kat, I chose a John Gorka song to say goodbye to her. I don't have one good song that I sing when I remember my dear Kwinn, so I am linking to the several that make me smile, cry, and laugh when I think of my beautiful little Siamese boy, Kwinn. I see you still in my dreams and you are never far from our hearts. When I think of leaving Philadelphia after living there for 11 years, where I first found Kwinn, I have to throw in a song about Philly.
Goodbye my beautiful little boy. You have been missed and it is my fault I have not been able to say goodbye until now.
And, because Kwinn LOVED listening to Air:
*Not his real name!
