Tiveria
Sheeptastic!
Today I’m in mourning.
Before I bring you to today, let me begin by talking about how we got her. I was still at UTC (actually a year or so before we were laid off), and a co-worker had sent around an e-mail about a free cat. Apparently someone near to her had found the cat on the farm, and she kept coming back to them. They couldn’t take her in because the woman was allergic to cats, but the cat dearly wanted to be inside.
My co-worker already had 4 cats, and couldn’t take another.
I went home and sweet - talked Shane until he said we could have her. He didn’t want her at first because of the work she was going to cause us.
We drove the Mass and picked her up, though she hated being inside a cat-carrier, and we took her home.
“What are we going to name her,” I said.
“Well she’s kind of sandy, like the pyramids - so how about Pyra?” Shane came back with, and I liked it a lot. So Pyra began her crazy reign over the two of our hearts.
She started the craziness by trying to see out the window with a ferocity I had never seen in a cat. She’d headbutt the glass so hard, we thought it would break. She’d tap at it with her paws when it was snowing - trying to catch the flakes from the inside out.
Then came the howling. Most of you have heard the howls that sounded like baby cries. The first time Shane’s parents heard it, they though we had a kid and didn’t tell them. She spoke to us whenever she was lonely, or missed us. “I wish she’d stop that racket!” we’d often say.
We both miss it now.
We didn’t know how old she was or wasn’t, and couldn’t afford the vet, so we just assumed she was crazy.
Next came the head butts. I’m not sure when it started, but I remember seeing her head butt Shane’s head when he was lying down watching TV. It was really cute and sweet. If she saw me from an open door in our bedroom, she’d run across the room with just me showing her my knuckles. “Give me love!” she’d say by pressing herself up against our hands as hard as she could.
About a month ago, she stopped using her litter box, and started going everywhere but. It was difficult, and frustrating, but when we saw the blood, we got scared.
We took her to the vet. They gave her a couple of shots, and us some drugs to see if they would help. And they did.
She stopped howling. Mostly stopped headbutting. But still talked to us.
She loved to talk.
This morning, I awoke with sickness in my lungs, and wanted to call out. I didn’t think I could though. We were already down two people, and I knew they’d need me. I went down the stairs, and saw Pyra lying at the bottom of them. She was in a weird position I thought.
On her back, with her mouth open and crazy eyes.
“Wow, what a weird dream she must be having.”
That dream is one we’ll all have one day, but today was one Pyra will never wake from. I hope she’s chasing mice in Heaven because she was a good and earthy animal.
I love her. And I’ll miss her. I hope she remembers us whereever she is, and I know God is watching out for her. Think of me today.
Before I bring you to today, let me begin by talking about how we got her. I was still at UTC (actually a year or so before we were laid off), and a co-worker had sent around an e-mail about a free cat. Apparently someone near to her had found the cat on the farm, and she kept coming back to them. They couldn’t take her in because the woman was allergic to cats, but the cat dearly wanted to be inside.
My co-worker already had 4 cats, and couldn’t take another.
I went home and sweet - talked Shane until he said we could have her. He didn’t want her at first because of the work she was going to cause us.
We drove the Mass and picked her up, though she hated being inside a cat-carrier, and we took her home.
“What are we going to name her,” I said.
“Well she’s kind of sandy, like the pyramids - so how about Pyra?” Shane came back with, and I liked it a lot. So Pyra began her crazy reign over the two of our hearts.
She started the craziness by trying to see out the window with a ferocity I had never seen in a cat. She’d headbutt the glass so hard, we thought it would break. She’d tap at it with her paws when it was snowing - trying to catch the flakes from the inside out.
Then came the howling. Most of you have heard the howls that sounded like baby cries. The first time Shane’s parents heard it, they though we had a kid and didn’t tell them. She spoke to us whenever she was lonely, or missed us. “I wish she’d stop that racket!” we’d often say.
We both miss it now.
We didn’t know how old she was or wasn’t, and couldn’t afford the vet, so we just assumed she was crazy.
Next came the head butts. I’m not sure when it started, but I remember seeing her head butt Shane’s head when he was lying down watching TV. It was really cute and sweet. If she saw me from an open door in our bedroom, she’d run across the room with just me showing her my knuckles. “Give me love!” she’d say by pressing herself up against our hands as hard as she could.
About a month ago, she stopped using her litter box, and started going everywhere but. It was difficult, and frustrating, but when we saw the blood, we got scared.
We took her to the vet. They gave her a couple of shots, and us some drugs to see if they would help. And they did.
She stopped howling. Mostly stopped headbutting. But still talked to us.
She loved to talk.
This morning, I awoke with sickness in my lungs, and wanted to call out. I didn’t think I could though. We were already down two people, and I knew they’d need me. I went down the stairs, and saw Pyra lying at the bottom of them. She was in a weird position I thought.
On her back, with her mouth open and crazy eyes.
“Wow, what a weird dream she must be having.”
That dream is one we’ll all have one day, but today was one Pyra will never wake from. I hope she’s chasing mice in Heaven because she was a good and earthy animal.
I love her. And I’ll miss her. I hope she remembers us whereever she is, and I know God is watching out for her. Think of me today.
