Mood:
blueTopic: General
As it turned out, they weren't meant to be apart from each other for very long. My wonderful, big cat Paddy passed away last Friday (Dec. 9) at the age of sixteen and three quarters, only six short weeks after the passing of his lifelong cat companion Tara. (They were born about two weeks apart.) Paddy had been feeling unwell at the same time as Tara, each of them affected by totally different ailments. He has a nice, peaceful final resting spot right beside Tara, in his woods that he spent so much time in.
Paddy was a gentle, good-natured cat, with a heart as big as his considerable size. He was born in early April of 1995. His mother (from a nearby neighbourhood) was a beautiful, long-haired black cat named Keswick. Paddy had her good looks, even after suffering a badly slashed nose while still a young cat. I don't know if that wound came from another cat, or if he tangled with a woods animal. All we know is that Tara led him home that night.
Fun and games extended to Tara...even when she didn't choose it. He'd come and sit near her, raise a front paw and just let it hover in front of her, like he might take a swat at her. Then she'd break the suspense by suddenly bopping him in the nose, then taking off as fast as possible and getting under something low where he couldn't follow her. So it was funny to see him raise a paw to tease her and then automatically start to flinch a bit, anticipating the swat he knew was coming from her. He didn't mind it at all; for him, it was all good fun.
One thing he most definitely didn't like was...guitars. If I started to play guitar, he'd leave the room. I didn't take it personally, though, because experimenting had shown me that even if I plucked just one single note (unplugged), he'd get up and leave. I guess there was just something about the sound vibration he didn't like. However, he disliked thunder storms even more. Thunder required hiding under a bed or in the back of a closet.
He was a hunter and climber extraordinaire. We discouraged him from hunting birds and small woods animals, but that didn't stop him from bringing 'gifts' home. If for no other reason than to show off for Tara. For fun, he would ride in the front of the wheelbarrow like he was on the prow of a ship at sea. He'd grab a person's hand with his paw (gently) and pull it toward him to indicate he wanted to be patted. He'd gnaw a bit on fingers, too...but never too hard. He'd have wonderful battles with his little catnip pillows, which he'd then lie his head on to rest once he'd worn himself out. And through all of this, he was a great talker (and purrer), always with something to say.
Paddy, you are forever my wonderful and much-loved 'big guy'.
 Paddy and Tara |  Paddy Tracks |