Elmer came into my life in 1995. He was part of a litter that a friend was finding homes for. He was the loner of the bunch. Seemed very calm and was smaller than the rest of the kittens. I remember being in the living room and him looking up at me, as if to say, "Please take me, or no one else will." So he came home with me. I started by holding him a lot and even giving him baths. He was a calm cat, very cool. You could say he was the whole Rat Pack of the feline world rolled into one. He was cooler than them all. He liked people and if he knew you well enough, he'd visit on your lap until you gave him some love. He enjoyed all contact from the chest up, but did not like his hind quarters touched. Not even by me. He hated to be brushed, yet he had an incredibly thick and beautiful coat. Not quite considered a long haired cat, but his hair was long. He was a mixture of grays, white and some tans, just touches of black. He had the wonderful Tabby "M" on his forehead.
He grew into a massive cat, topping out at over 18 pounds and didn't have a bit of fat on him. He was built big. People would mistake him for a Maine Coon, except he didn't have the tips on his ears. He had the calm "gentle giant" temperament of that breed, yet he was a domestic mixed breed. His paws were huge and white. His chest and belly was white. He had enormous green eyes. And very big teeth. If you didn't know him, you could be intimidated by him. He had the look of one not to be messed with, yet he was very tolerant of all people, even children.
He grew and matured. At one point, he lived with my parents after I went home following a divorce. He became an outdoor cat then. He loved it outside. Not much of a hunter, he was more of a lover and tried to keep the peace. The female cat of the house, Flannel, was six pounds of pure hell and she hated Elmer. He never struck out at her, just tried to stay away from her. He could have eaten her like a cupcake. But her meanness kept him at a distance, that and his "do no harm" attitude toward the world.
After both my parents had died, Elmer came back to live with me. My dad wouldn't part with him before that. He became an indoor cat again. Not much to his liking, but he was always one to go with the flow. We moved right before our first son was born and Elmer was in an apartment for a couple of years. Then we moved again and were in a rental house. Right after our second son, we bought a house and Elmer, once again, made the move fine. We had lost Flannel to illness and had adopted and lost another cat, Tipsy, to the same illness. Elmer alone had survived. He and my husband's dog were the only two pets we had.
Elmer started looking long in the tooth as he entered his teens. He was still huge, but had an illness that we could never figure out. He sneezed a lot and had mucus and blood and would suffer with it off and on. Finally, a round of steroids seemed to clear him up. He seemed unhappy, so I wanted to adopt a female cat, a younger one, to be his friend. We ended up with Henna. Our Scardeycat. She loved Elemer though. She was very frightened of all the boys. She loved me if no boys were around. She and Elmer would frolic through the house after everyone was in bed. They would wrestle. Elmer would get pretty rough with her too. She was much smaller, but loved his attention. They would roll on the floor and nibble and grab and then skeeter off.
We adopted another dog six months after Tasha died. Mo, our poor hairless shelter dog. He turned out to be a great addition to the family and he got along well with both cats. Elmer was still the head of the house. He and he alone was allowed to sleep at my feet or anywhere else he wanted to sleep on my bed. He had full run of the house. He liked to get out on the back porch and lay on the brick floor warmed by the sun. He liked to sneak out. He aged well and kept youthful with his little kitty girlfriend. She kept him hopping.
Suddenly, about three weeks ago, sometime in March I guess, he started feeling bad. We went to the vet and he improved a little, but not much and not for long. This week, he went downhill again fast and I knew it was time. No more being dragged to the vet, or stuck with needles for fluids and meds. I would keep him comfortable at home. I had some pain medication to give him and tried to give it through a little dropper. He didn't tolerate it or water well, so I did what the hospice materials I've read said to do. I let him rest. I kept him comfortable and I didn't try to force any liquids. He eased and acted more peaceful, he was on his right side and resting. He wasn't moving at all. After the morning, I put him up on my bed. I knew it was the end and there would be no turning this around. This was his favorite place to lay, so it would be restful for him at the end. And he went peacefully just like that. I cried. I pet him. I told him thank you for years of happiness and I thanked God for him being in our lives.
I picked the boys up from school and told them on the porch sitting them down and explaining before we came inside. They went to my room and gently climbed up on the bed and said goodbye. John Campbell took it really hard and cried a long time. Jackson Wynn asked a lot of questions. We wrapped Elmer in his favorite afghan and placed him in a little box. The boys helped me carry the box to the back porch, letting him rest out there one more time before Daddy got home to help bury him. I picked out a spot in my butterfly garden. I can see it from my kitchen window. We buried him there. The boys helped. We read the 23rd Psalm and said some prayers, and then the boys helped Daddy put the dirt over his grave. We are going to plant some roses beside him, on either side. We put a river rock over the grave as a marker. John Campbell wants to get a gravestone with his picture and name engraved on it. I may see about getting a little cat statue to go out there. Or an angel.
The boys have been sad, but have held up pretty well. I think being part of the farewell ceremony helped.
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