In my previous post this evening, I was mulling if God was still out there. I know now He is, and He’s got one more very special angel. Our little cat Frosty, of the huge eyes and the single daughter Bouncer she gave us, died about 2am, 15-20 minutes ago.
Frosty was always a little spitfire. She managed to intimidate both our former Mastiff, Sam, and our current Bull Terrier/Heinz 57 mix, Shane. She was the smallest of our cats, from the first big group we got when we took in a stray that we thought was our out-of-town neighbor’s cat. She kept the rest of the group in line, easily thrashing her littermate Max, three times her size. The Terror Twins, Deke and Junior, were never terrors once she entered the room. Her piercing yowl and oversize eyes made her the perfect Halloween cat.
And we didn’t think she’d be the first to go, either. We have Stryper, the much-older FIV-infected cat who is still going strong, and we have had Princess, our first cat, for at least four years more than we had Frosty. But she got really sick a few weeks ago, and went downhill fast – we think stomach cancer, from the symptoms. But just as in life, she set the conditions for her passing. She didn’t start seizuring until after Tamy had finished her snack after getting home from work at 11:30pm, and she didn’t let go until I came back upstairs from moving stuff around to keep the house a bit more tolerable. She was a fighter and a scrapper, never much of a lover or a cuddler, but you could sneak her a quick hug and kiss, as long as you didn’t make a big deal out of it.
So now we’re back down to nine. And my heart is absolutely shattered. I always wondered, once we entered catdom, if losing a cat would hurt as much as a dog. I got my answer tonight – an emphatic and heart-breaking “yes”.
If you don’t hear from me for a bit, you now know why. And you’ll understand the rambling, barely coherent nature of this post. Just do me a favour. Look up at the stars, as you read this. If you see a shooting star go by, well, just say “Thank you, Frosty” for me. She was a great cat, a truly unique spirit, and one I’ll never forget.
Now, if you’ll pardon me, I’m gonna go bawl like a 2-year old. Again, like I have while I’ve writing this. Good night, and Godspeed, little FrostyMama.