I love you, Odysseus....
My home cat Odysseus died today.
So I am pretty sad about that.
I'm also really sad because my nephew absolutely loved Odysseus. They had a special bond. He always called her "Deesy". I'll never forget a lot of mornings when he had mastered the art of climbing into my bunk bed with me and Deesy, and the three of us would cuddle together, sometimes for close to an hour.
Odysseus was a really unique kitty. We always had a love/hate relationship. Mostly because one minute she would love me, and the next minute she would be attacking, teeth bared and claws out, ready for the kill. But at night she would lie in bed and purr and demand to be petted. And if you didn't pet to her satisfaction, she would pin her ears, grab your hand, and bite with all her strength so as to teach you a good lesson.
Deesy was thrown out of her litter of kittens when she was really young. Her mom wasn't a big fan of her. No doubt because of all the biting. So teeny, tiny little Odysseus wormed her way into my older brother's heart, and he named her. I begged and pleaded with my parents to allow her in the house. She was an orange female which is kind of rare and unique. My parents didn't think she would live very long anyways because she was so tiny.
She stayed small and kitten-like for a long, long time, probably from being malnourished from not being with her mother. Her mother was atri colored cat named Jamie who was hopeless at raising kittens. Deesy spent some time living in a shoe box in the kitchen, which she rarely got out of because of her size.
She was so vicious once she got older that we had to have her declawed. My family is not a fan of declawing as a rule. But in this cat's case, it was quite literally a hazard to not have her declawed. She was pretty pissed when she came out of the surgery to sore feet and no more defense machanisms. But my family could sleep soundly at night and soon enough she learned to make up for her lack of claws with her teeth.
Seven years is young for a cat. It will be so strange to go home from now on and not have my original precious kitty there. Odysseus was there for me when I broke up with my first boyfriend, had mono, survived the worst year of my life, and still loved me when I came home for weekends from the city.
She was a good kitty.
I love you, Odysseus.
So I am pretty sad about that.
I'm also really sad because my nephew absolutely loved Odysseus. They had a special bond. He always called her "Deesy". I'll never forget a lot of mornings when he had mastered the art of climbing into my bunk bed with me and Deesy, and the three of us would cuddle together, sometimes for close to an hour.
Odysseus was a really unique kitty. We always had a love/hate relationship. Mostly because one minute she would love me, and the next minute she would be attacking, teeth bared and claws out, ready for the kill. But at night she would lie in bed and purr and demand to be petted. And if you didn't pet to her satisfaction, she would pin her ears, grab your hand, and bite with all her strength so as to teach you a good lesson.
Deesy was thrown out of her litter of kittens when she was really young. Her mom wasn't a big fan of her. No doubt because of all the biting. So teeny, tiny little Odysseus wormed her way into my older brother's heart, and he named her. I begged and pleaded with my parents to allow her in the house. She was an orange female which is kind of rare and unique. My parents didn't think she would live very long anyways because she was so tiny.
She stayed small and kitten-like for a long, long time, probably from being malnourished from not being with her mother. Her mother was atri colored cat named Jamie who was hopeless at raising kittens. Deesy spent some time living in a shoe box in the kitchen, which she rarely got out of because of her size.
She was so vicious once she got older that we had to have her declawed. My family is not a fan of declawing as a rule. But in this cat's case, it was quite literally a hazard to not have her declawed. She was pretty pissed when she came out of the surgery to sore feet and no more defense machanisms. But my family could sleep soundly at night and soon enough she learned to make up for her lack of claws with her teeth.
Seven years is young for a cat. It will be so strange to go home from now on and not have my original precious kitty there. Odysseus was there for me when I broke up with my first boyfriend, had mono, survived the worst year of my life, and still loved me when I came home for weekends from the city.
She was a good kitty.
I love you, Odysseus.
posted by Amanda at 21:38
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