Ode To Those I Love Part II

(Isn't he beautiful!)

May of 2004 was a hard time for us. Flash was so much a part of our daily lives. Nothing we did felt complete without him. We were blindingly sad. We tried to take comfort in each other and those around us. A second loss was coming. One that while maybe not so earth shattering, was one that "broke the dam" so to speak. All of the grief we had been holding in for Flash flowed over into the next.

(The next story may pale in comparison to the last. But to those of you that have pets, it will seem almost as important. It was too me. Sissy..forgive me if some of the details or dates aren't just right)

Kimo Sabe, the Flying Monster Kitty
When I was in high school, somewhere around 1989 or 1990 my sister came home from work with a box full of kittens. Not just one little kitten but a whole litter that had been abandoned. They needed love and homes.

My grandfather was not thrilled. At the time we had at least 3 dogs (although it may have been 4), 2 cats that belonged to us and countess others that came around for food and attention, a fish pond, a bird aviary, and a rabbit. There were more than likely a few tree frogs and toads hanging out in the backyard too. My sister and I grew up in a house that never turned away the abandoned or unloved. However, it seems Grump (as my grandfather is affectionately called) had reached the limit. He reluctantly agreed to let us keep the cats until homes could be found for them all. (You see..he's only grumpy on the outside, he really has a great big HUGE heart). Between the two of us those tiny kittens became fat and happy. We took turns feeding them (more her than I) and eventually homes were found for all. Except....one.

Every litter it seems has the "runt". The littlest one that doesn't seem to get or have enough of anything. This litter was no exception. In the box she brought home was this tiny striped ball of fur that simply shook. He was weak and oh so small. He fit in the palm of our hand. Where the other kittens gained weight and grew strong. He didn't. He sat in a ball and only squeaked from time to time. When friends came to look at the kittens and choose one to take home, no one paid any mind to that little furry ball. He didn't seem as healthy or as rambunctious as the others. We were left with that little ball in the box. Grump was not thrilled. We begged and pleaded to keep him, sure that he only need a little love to grow. But Grump was adamant. NO MORE CATS! But here's the thing about grandpa's. They can't resist their grandaughters..no matter how old they get. Somehow we convinced him (or did he convince us) that this cat was going to die. Grump agreed to let us keep him. BUT...just until he died. Never ones to break a promise to our grandfather. We did. He just took his time getting there.

This is how Kimo Sabe The Flying Monster Kitty came to belong to both of us. We shared him equally. For the most part anyway. Because he was taken away from his mother so early, he really did think that we were his mothers. After the competition was gone it didn't take long at all for this weak, tiny little kitten to grow chubby and feisty. He would lay on his back , in the palm of our hand while being fed with a baby bottle. So hungry and so eager to fill his rapidly expanding belly, that food would run all over him. When finally satisfied, he didn't move, just laid there, belly sticky out, half asleep, as we took a warm washcloth and cleaned him up. When he was old enough to start eating solid food, he more often than not went for a swim in the baby cereal we fed him. Then sat patiently, again, as we cleaned him up. He was a very clean cat. Although he never did learn how to wash his own face. That was reserved for us. His favorite spot was in the middle of my sisters very long, very thick hair. He would crawl up, make a nest and fall asleep.

He was named after The Lone Rangers faithful friend, NOT chemotherapy as so many of our friends took to him. The Flying Monster Kitty part came later, but was well earned. Our bedroom was two steps down from the room next to it, with my bed only a foot or so away from the stairs. Now that he had energy and strength, Kimo took to leaping from the top step, into the middle of my bed, then in to the middle of my sisters bed. At times going so fast it was as if he was flying. Sure, he missed his landing a few times, but this only served to make us laugh, then pet and kiss him, so what did he care. He could be a real monster though. Especially when it came to Grammy. She was never that fond of cats to begin with. I think she is slightly scared of them. He knew this and took full advantage of it. When we weren't around, he would hide under chairs and swipe at her feet when she walked by. As he got older, he took to chasing her around the house. I don't think he ever would have scratched her, but he was happy that she thought he would. He was the boss and wanted everyone to know it.

Kimo was taken from other cats so soon that he really didn't know how to be just a cat. The other two cats we had at the time were primarily outdoor cats and wanted nothing to do with this thing we brought home. The dogs, on the other hand, didn't mind him so much. Because of this, Kimo seemed to be part cat, part dog, part human. He rarely meowed, and when he did it was surprising. And even then it came out more like a bark. He growled quite a bit. Sometimes it was because he was mad at you, sometimes he was just talking. I know that at times, it was him saying simply...I love you. He would growl, nibble my finger or hand..or whatever was closest to him. Not hard, just put his teeth around whatever it was he was biting, then he would look at me with those big Kimo eyes and lick me. Now that was love. Somewhere along the line we taught him to apologize when he bit too hard. A little touch on his nose, a stern "That was mean! Say you're sorry!" and he would. Usually reluctantly, but he would like whatever he bit then run away, sulking. He was not a cat to scratch a person intentionally, but he was fond of hitting you, sometimes rather hard, with his paw.

Kimo Sabe loved to eat...just not cat food. He'd manage to eat dry food but just because he had too. If he wanted water, he wanted it out of a glass. His favorite food was ice cream. He had some strange ice cream sense. Walking into the kitchen brought no response from him. However, if the purpose of walking into the kitchen was for ice cream, he somehow knew first that the freezer was where you were headed and got there first. It was impossible to eat ice cream without sharing. He start off sitting on the floor, staring at you. Then he'd jump up next to you, slowly getting as close as he could. Then if you weren't watching, he reach out and tap your hand as if to say "Please?". If that didn't get a response it wouldn't be long before his nose was sniffing your mouth as you brought the spoon closer. He was always given the dish at the end to lick the bowl, but he wasn't one to be patient.



When my sister began the process an adult makes of leaving the nest, he went with her most of the time. After lovey was born, he lived with me for a short time. Where most cats are terrified of moving, he really didn't care as long as he had my sister or I. When my sister married a man with a great big Bernese (sp) Mountain Dog, he made sure that Shiloh knew not to mess with him. When she moved to Idaho, Kimo went too. Not only did it break my heart that she was going, but she was taking my cat too! It wasn't long before she called to tell me a funny story about him being lost in the field for a couple of days. Of course she didn't tell me about while he was lost. I'm pretty sure that she ws thinking "my sister is going to kill me". It was only safe to tell me AFTER my wonderful brother in law found him, scared to death, in the middle of the garden. My first trip to Idaho, Kimo made sure he let me know he wasn't happy with me for sending him out to the wilderness. But in the middle of the night, he woke me up, lying next to my head purring. He couldn't stay mad at me for long.

A few years went by, and a few more babies entered the world. My sister just didn't have enough time to share with her first baby anymore. It was time to come live with me. He was mad at first, but quickly adapted and made my home his. He would sleep with Lovey at night, and wake me up in the morning by sitting in the hall and staring at me until I got up to feed him. He spent a few years with us before he got sick. One morning I woke up and he wasn't waiting for me in the hall. When I found him, he was in pain. he wouldnt' let me touch him and he couldn't walk. He wouldn't eat. He stayed over night with the vet but they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him and said they would be able to without expense test and possibly surgery. They felt sure he was dying. I was broke and couldn't' afford to spend the money needed to save him. The vet said she could tell he was well loved and agreed to let him come home to die. Two days went by and he was still in pain. He would let me pet only for a minute or so before shying away from me. Then one morning I woke up and there he was staring at me in from the hallway as if nothing had happened. He was Kimo again.

Two years later, I found Kimo in pain again. But this time he couldn't move one of his legs. But this time, he didn't hide, he wanted more than anything to be with me. To be touched and loved. More trips to the vet, and more tests. This time they knew what was wrong. We were told that they couldn't be sure without x-rays, but they were confident that he was Cardiomyopothy (sp). The vet felt he had a blood clot and that is what kept him from being able to move his leg. This disease, in a human, is usually treated with a heart transplant. Not a option for a cat. There was medication for it, but with a cat his age, they didn't feel it would do any good and would be costly. We had to make the decision to put him to sleep.

Although Kimo was an animal. the decision we had to make and the pain we had to go through was too similar to the events of the past month. On the Friday before Memorial Day 2004, just three weeks after the passing of Flash, my husband and I drove Kimo to our vet's office and said goodbye. The night before I fed him ice cream and held him in my lap. All of the tears that I had been holding in since losing Flash came flooding out. How could I love two souls I loved so much in just a few weeks? I choose to stay with Kimo as they put him down. I just couldn't leave him behind to die alone. Again I stood at the feet of a loved one and touched him, talked to him. Cried over him. Again I told stories and said goodbye. My husband and I stood there crying with each other over Kimo and Flash.

The memories of that month are all clouded by the loses of Flash and Kimo. My poor boy turned 10 that year with no party, no fun. He lost his favorite uncle and his cat in one swoop. While we have not quite learned to fill in the holes left behind by Flash & Kimo. Just a few days later we started to heal with love from an unlikely source.