His mother was a barn cat and he was placed, with his siblings, in a free box in our lobby. He went home with my neighbour, and then friend, who picked him because he looked like Angel. Then I found out the woman who brought his cat mother to our building lived diagonally across the hall from me. A triangle of people all connected by one small kitten.
He had been named Oreo. I wanted to rename him Harlequin because he was such a clown and the black and white markings on his face reminded me of them. But there were three small children living across the hall who thought of him as theirs. I could not bring myself to rename him when he was so obviously missed. And, by the time they moved, his name had stuck.
Oreo was the quirkiest cat I ever owned. I joked that he was an down cat and not a up cat. He couldn’t stand being held in your arms or on your lap. He preferred being at your feet instead, either on my footstool or directly on my feet. He wouldn’t even sleep at the top of my bed even though all the other cats slept there (Angel and Lara even sleeping on my pillow). Instead he nestled at the bottom corner of the bed. In later years I placed a folded fake fur blanket there which he, thankfully, would sleep on.
He got along with all the other cats, except for Angel, who thought she was a person, but his favourite cat to be around was Lara. Not that he had much choice in the matter. Lara’s the extrovert of the lot who thinks that everyone is there to pet her and every cat wants to be with her all the time. While she spent more time with Blackie than Oreo, after Blackie died Lara pretty much crazy glued herself to him. He didn’t mind at first and they would snuggle together in various configurations after Lara groomed him for a while. Sometimes they’d lazy play fight, lying down head to head and softly pat their paws against each other.
When I first registered my cats at the vet clinic across the street in 2019, the receptionist looked at the three oldest cats’ ages and said, “Wow! You’re looking at a lot of heartbreak in your future, with them being so close together in age.” I was ticked at the time seeing as all three cats were healthy but then Angel died suddenly from cardiac arrest/congestive heart failure on May 31, 2022 and Blackie quickly followed her on August 29, 2022, only three months later. Considering how she rapidly lost the ability to walk my best guess is it was something brain related. And then, out of my trio of cats, only Oreo remained.
He was already on one capsule of gabapentin a day for arthritis and could no longer get onto my bed, so I’d lift him up each night and several times a day. Luckily he could still get down by jumping onto my mini trampoline so I didn’t need to worry about him falling off the bed while I slept or made dinner. Then he refused to let Lara go anywhere near him, not even to groom him. I upped the gabapentin to two capsules but his rejection of Lara continued and he began crying mournfully whenever he lost sight of me. And he started sneezing so forcefully I expected his head to spin around like the girl from The Exorcist. Then there was blood, little droplets of blood that sprayed across the wall and his favourite blanket and the kitchen mat. And he started having seizures.
I booked a vet appointment for him the next day (a Friday) and Colin arranged to have his visit extended to cover the appointment. The results were diametrically opposite of each other; he either had a cold or a tumour in his nose. We headed back to my place with antibiotics (which Oreo hated) and a phone appointment with the vet in ten more days. He never made it that far. I had a psychiatrist appointment on Wednesday and asked Cat Dad if Oreo could stay at his place seeing as I’d be gone for the whole afternoon. He agreed then, upon my return, commented on Oreo sneezing blood and having to mop the floor. I was confused but thanked him then, shortly after we got home, Oreo sneezed and the blood was definitely more than droplets. Sadly it was too late call to the vet but I had plans to call first thing in the morning.
I woke at dawn on Thursday, September 14th because Oreo’s breathing sounded funny. I hurried to him and carried him to my swing chair to watch the sunrise. He immediately struggled to get down and limped as fast as he could to his kitchen mat, he was a “down cat” right to the end. I lay beside him for hours, watching his nictitating membrane rise and his pupils stay fully dilated. The vet opened at 8am and I was on the phone that minute setting an appointment. It was made for Friday, September 15th, Oreo’s 16th birthday. Colin immediately made plans to be there.
Oreo had been on antibiotics for almost a full week and he’d only gotten worse. By the time Thursday rolled around he was no longer eating or drinking. Not with his food warmed. Not with is favourite treats. Nothing. I called the vet clinic that afternoon to ask if I could stop giving him the antibiotics seeing as he hated them and wasn’t consuming anything and was asked to come in right away. It was very obviously his time to go and I put Colin on video chat so he could be there in some way. And, like always, the end was instantaneous. One moment he was looking up and the next his head dropped to his paws. Colin thought he was sleeping, he looked so peaceful.
It was so hard walking home empty handed. It seemed like my apartment was that much emptier. Then again, just over a year ago I had five cats. Now there were two. Smudge sniffed intently around the area Oreo favoured then walked away. Lara started crying for me every time I was out of sight. And I washed Oreo’s kitchen mat and gave it to Colin. I couldn’t bear seeing it without Oreo curled upon it.
Ironically I had three cats offered to me around the day of Oreo’s passing. I turned them all down. I think it’s time for just Smudge, Lara, and myself. I hope they live long and happy lives.
Goodbye Oreo. You will be forever missed.