Stubby

I don’t know when he showed up, but there he was. A big grey tom with mats and clumps in his coat. I had seen him hanging around the neighbor’s cats and on her porch. I just assumed he was hers. She owned four cats of her own that seemed to sleep outside and she left food for them, the local possums and who knows what in the neighborhood. There were some very large squirrels in the area probably for that reason. Once, when I was out working in the yard the neighbor came over and talked to me, mostly snarky and sneering. You know, the stuff that makes for good, high fences.

During the conversations the cats came out to see what was going on. When I saw the grey tom I mentioned that he looked a little rough. The other cats were what you would expect, clean with neat fur. She said he had just showed up one day and ate the food that she left out. She muttered that she hated him and I remembered that she used to plink at pop cans hanging from a tree in her back yard with her bb gun. I didn’t comment to her, but mentioned it to my wife that night.

My wife was a cat lady, not a future cat lady, a card carrying, founding member of Cat Lovers Anonymous. She mentioned that he was sleeping in our shed on a kiln that I was storing. The next day I noticed that she had put a piece of carpet on the kiln plus water and cat food on our porch. The first few times he was eating he would scamper when we went out the door, but after a while he stopped running away. Our cats, we had a neutered tom and a young black female, started to hang out on the porch with him. He then let us pet him and I could examine his coat. He seemed to be settling in with us, but then he disappeared.

He wasn’t gone for long. Three days later he was back, but he was injured. This cat had a tail that was almost a foot long and he had gotten it caught in something and it was broken. Imagine that long tail sticking up at forty-five degrees behind him for a foot. Now imagine that same tail sticking up at the forty-five degrees, but halfway along his tail now hung down like a furry pendulum. He wouldn’t let us near him so that we could help. I don’t know what happened except that he must have gotten it caught in something. About a week later the pendulum had fallen off and he got his name, Stubby.

He again started to be social and would let us pet him. I started to try and cut away the mats, but he didn’t like that. After several nasty scratches my wife suggested catnip. It worked. I guess when he was high he really didn’t care that I was removing three pounds of felted fur from his chest, belly and behind his legs. I would sit on the porch and he would come out with the other cats and didn’t seem to mind the dog.

A short time later I began working graveyard shift and so I slept through the day. One morning I came home and got into bed. A few hours later I was awakened by a thud on the waterbed. I looked up to see Stubby crouched on the end of the bed looking at the dog and me. Of course the dog slept on the bed. I looked at my wife and she stated that the cat could try being inside for a while. I shrugged and went back to sleep. Hours later, when I got up he hadn’t moved. I picked him up and put him outside, but the camel’s nose was under the tent. He became a regular member of the family.

He got along with the dog, they never fought or squabbled. He got along with the other cats. So well that when our little black female had kittens one of them was grey like him. Since he was going to be with us and kittens come all too often we took him to the vet for a check-up and to get neutered. Part of the testing was for feline leukemia. Unfortunately, he was positive. At that time there was no treatment, but Stubby was very happy and chatty with the vet. She checked his tail also and stated that it looked like it had healed cleanly and he could live five or ten years without problem.

After we brought him home he settled into our routine. He followed the dog and I around or sat with us. He always wanted to be part of the family. I have no idea why anyone would abandon a member of their family, especially such a loyal one. I have always had problems understanding people, but never animals.

We moved across the state with our small family for many reasons, but we took everyone with us. As we settled in some of the cats did better than others. The little black female ran away and I would spot her in the neighborhood occasionally, but could never get close to her. After our second child came our old ginger tabby tom wandered off also. We never saw him again. Ultimately it came down to just Stubby and his son, Joey. Then the bad news came.

Stubby disappeared for a couple of days. Our house had a way that the cats could get into the basement and I found him there on a piece of insulation. He couldn’t meow because his jaws were frozen shut with dried saliva. I got water and managed to get some down him, get his jaws apart and had him eat a little. I then moved him upstairs where I made a bed for him. I checked on him as often as I could and helped him when I could, but it was clear, his end was near.

While I can endure much, I cannot stand to see children and animals suffer. As it was evening I took him to an urgent care animal hospital where I talked to a vet tech that had worked at the same animal research facility that I had. Stubby sat on the stainless steel table and talked to me as I petted him. The tech told me I should wait out in the lobby and she would bring him out to me when it was over.

I am glad that I listened to her as I would find out when my dog became too old to hear, see and was incontinent. It is an experience that no one should have. She brought Stubby to me basically in garbage bags, still warm. I drove home with him on the seat next to me and my hand on him the whole way. When I got home I went to the back yard and buried him next to the foundation of our garage, but not in the bags. When I finished I stood in the cold night air weeping some of the most bitter tears of my life as I am now. My wife came out and embraced me asking how I was. All I could say was that I felt terrible, and she led me back into the house.

It is odd, but every time I went into the yard I would go to the corner where he was and talk to him. He was my friend and I missed him very much and I still do twenty years later. I have had cats that adopted me when they were born in my house and that I have adopted when they were abandoned as kittens, but I have never had a cat that was like Stubby.