lydy | (no subject)

My cat, Cholmondeley, was euthanized this Friday morning.

Cholmondeley was a black and white cat I found under my car the day after Thanksgiving about thirteen years ago. For most of his life, he was a violent creature, who savaged man and beast. I had cat scratches up to my elbows constantly for the first couple years I had him. At some point, my Renfest friend needed to leave his cat with me, and it turned out that not only were the two compatible, but Fester could beat the shit out of him. This made Cholmondeley much happier. (Cat psychology and politics are very strange.) It also made my other cat, Lilith, much happier. She was no longer Cholmondeley's punching bag, and Fester was an old fashioned gentleman; he didn't believe it was proper to hit women.

Cholmondeley and Fester lived together for many years, in the custody of either Christopher, or me, depending on which of us had the best environment. He spent quite a bit more time with Christopher because Lilith hated him so much. Eventually, we had to split the pair, and Fester stayed with Christopher and Cholmondeley stayed with me.

Somewhere during his time with Fester and Christopher, he metamorphosed into the most wonderful cat in the world. He was sixteen pounds of purr. He loved everyone (including, once, a handful of four to six year old girls who were gently man-handling him.) He had an amazing purr, it was loud enough to hear across the room, and had musical grace notes.

In the last year, he's lost weight and become hyper-thyroid. He dropped from 16 pounds to 7 pounds in the space of six months. This last month he's been particularly ill.

All in all, he was a fine cat, if not a good one. He was never entirely clear what a litter box was for. He was one of the stupidest cats I've ever met. (He's the one who got lost in the bathtub.) He went through a great many names, the most common of which was Monster. I also used SAM for a while, which stood for Stuffed And Mounted, based on the theory that he'd be a much better cat that way. He never did understand that claws can hurt, and disciplining him was pretty much a lost cause because he was too stupid to put together his behavior and the punishment. Positive reinforcement didn't work, either, for the same reason.

David used to call him the snake-necked half-stein. He had the longest neck I've ever seen on a cat; he could telescope it around corners. His markings made him look a little like a cow. And his head was comically too small for his body.

So, that was Cholmondeley.

DDB put up a quick and dirty page for Cholmondeley at http://www.dd-b.net/dd-b/SnapshotAlbum/data/2005/05060-Chumley , if you want to see what he looked like.

P.S. I'm just going to assume the sympaty and good wishes, if you don't mind. I always feel obligated to answer them, and I would really prefer not to be burdened by that. Also, I keep on thinking that there are probably people like me who should have sent condolences, but somehow didn't get around to it in time, and worry that that makes me look like I didn't care as much as the people who did send the condolences.