| The story of Spike I adopted Spike in August of 1993 from a vet clinic. Spike was 9 years old. I did not plan on adopting an older cat it just happened. I couldn't say no. Spike was a gorgeous Maine Coon with an amaizingly expressive face and even more surprising attitude. Everything about him was special, he had a very well defined personality that nothing and no one could change, he was also very vocal, as they call them a 'talking cat'. And boy did he ever talk!!! Unfortunately as I was to find out Spike was not treated well by humans before and in the first couple of days of having him at home I almost lost my right eye: he bit me. I felt like giving up, but being just as stubborn as my newly aquired pet I didn't return him to the clinic, instead I decided to make every effort to turn the little furry fury around. I spent countless hours talking to him, as it was the only contact he allowed me to have with him. Every sudden move or noise would throw him into panic, he was affraid of his own shadow. Spike was paranoid of hands and feet, he did not play at all, he did not even purr!!! I promissed him and myself that I would never abanadon him or give him up. Lots of patience and tolerance slowly started to pay off and Spike started to come closer and closer, he allowed me to touch the back of his head, behind the ears (if he would see the hands he would bite), he let me pick him up before giving him a treat and to kiss his forehead and tommy (a sign of trust). After approximately 2 years Spike was as close to a normal domestic cat as he would ever be: he still would bite everyone else but not me. He recognized my voice and if he was in a fit of panic or paranoya he would allow me to pick him up and comfort him. The most rewarding thing was when he finally started to purr!!! Although Spike never allowed anyone else to cuddle him like me, he did an amazing thing to my husband: Spike would throw himself on the floor at my husband's feet, hug them tight and stay like that for hours. We never knew why he did it or what it meant but we accepted it as a reward, Spike's way of saying 'you deserve it'. The fits of panic and fear faded away, my cat was a happy domestic cat. Unfortunately pets have a much shorter life span than humans do and they leave when you less expect it... Spike died on November 14, 1999 of cancer, he was 15 years old. His last days were hard and painful, he was lethargic and there was nothing else the vet could do - we tried everything. I had to make the decision to put Spike to sleep and end his suffering. And so I did....I stayed with him when he received the shot so that he didn't feel abandoned, I talked to him and gave him a last kiss goodnight. Spike's ashes are in a pretty wooden box that has his name and I keep them in a quiet place where nobody will disturb his sleep... I still miss my Spike...He will always be with me, my friend, my companion, my kitty... The Last Battle If it should be that I grow frail and weak And pain should keep me from my sleep, Then will you do what must be done, For this -- the last battle -- can't be won. You will be sad I understand, But don't let grief then stay your hand, For on this day, more than the rest, Your love and friendship must stand the test. We have had so many happy years, You wouldn't want me to suffer so. When the time comes, please, let me go. Take me to where to my needs they'll tend, Only, stay with me till the end And hold me firm and speak to me Until my eyes no longer see. I know in time you will agree It is a kindness you do to me. Although my tail its last has waved, From pain and suffering I have been saved. Don't grieve that it must be you Who has to decide this thing to do; We've been so close -- we two -- these years, Don't let your heart hold any tears. -- Unknown |
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