So, I have been extremely absent from my blog primarily because I knew I had to write this post first and I haven't been able to stomach it until now. We lost our beloved Oreo less than a week after I took the top right photo in the collage. We have heard tales in our neighborhood about some animal (hawk? coyote? bobcat?) that's been killing cats and always scoffed at the thought. Not OREO. He's such a natural hunter, I would have defied any creature to go up against him.
Well, we have seen ourselves both a hawk (dismantling a squirrel, btw) and a coyote in our back yard in the past year, so this really shouldn't have been a big surprise. However, one Friday night in early April he BEGGED me to go out before I headed to bed (a somewhat unusual request, but since it was spring, I figured it was a bit of spring fever). The next morning when he wasn't right there to be let in, it still shouldn't have been all that unusual (as a cat known to go on the occasional walkabout) but I had a bad feeling. That feeling grew after he still hadn't returned for several days.
We put out signs (an unfortunate but productive way to meet your neighbors) and received several calls right away that filled us with hope. But my brain knew that there were at least 2 other cats in the neighborhood that looked a lot like Oreo, and unless you were familiar with his markings, it would be easy to confuse them.
We finally got a couple calls that confirmed our fears. The boys playing baseball on Saturday morning at the school had found the remains of what appeared to be a black and white cat. It had been so many days at this point, that we knew this had to have been him.
So, we told the kids as gently as we could (and without details) that Oreo had died and wouldn't be coming home. I sobbed somewhat openly (yes, so good at hiding my emotions, I know - ha ha) and that first night after I thought Devin was asleep, he came down and was sobbing too. I realized after a few days that Julia was just flat out in denial. She has begun to process it all, slowly.
The timing of our trip to Florida couldn't have been better. We got a nice change of scenery and it helped to heal our broken hearts. Max, our other (very indoor) cat, was another story. He cried and cried at the door every night. He stuck to me like glue during the day and has been the slowest to accept the change.
He is now, after a month, THE most spoiled cat in the universe. I think he may have anticipated this and might have just ordered a "hit" on Oreo to be the lone house cat. (It's just a theory.)
So, here's to my sweet little Oreo. He and his litter mates were abandoned in a box on the side of the highway at about 6 weeks. We adopted him from the Protectors of Animals (really, he adopted me). Max, who as a kitten about 8 weeks older, beat the tar out of him for a few days and then just loved him like a brother.
We always joked that Oreo was the cat who literally had about 9 lives. We were in the vet ER with him about once a year and thought we were going to lose him more than once. As an indoor cat, he BEGGED us to become an outdoor cat about 5 years ago (he was 11 when he died). He brought us "presents" (mostly headless) and would come home with wounds and a "you should see the OTHER guy" kind of attitude about it. But as fierce a hunter as he was, he was also a giant mush ball too.
He was very loved by all who met him and his constant presence on our front steps made him a well known fixture in the neighborhood. I believe the Hannas loved him so much that we were supposed to leave them Oreo in our will (I kept telling them he was a package deal).
So, the baby bunnies will be safe this spring and we will miss him lounging on our Adirondack chairs this summer. I have finally stopped looking out the front door every night, but admit to the occasional glance out the window, just hoping for a glimpse of him trotting up the driveway.
We miss you, Monkey-O, rest in peace.
Oreo (c.)August 10, 1997 - April 4, 2009.
