I need to start telling some Gracie stories. She's going to die soon. My friend Carla saw her recently after not seeing her for a year or so (in part because G flees from any and all unexpected humans) and was pretty sure the end is near. I can see it too.
We got her as a kitten from the Wisconsin Humane Society as an Xmas present for my sister, who was in middle school. (She'll be 34 in a couple of months.) That first week I kept her secreted in my bedroom in the attic. I had to sleep with the quilt tucked in around every bit of my body because she was a fucking biter at night.
Post-kitten, she was a seriously committed outdoor hunter style cat. She was really bonded with my sister and would sleep with her but was mostly outdoors and didn't come home a lot of nights - she'd come cuddle with my sister for a while and then be yowling to go out. When she came in we'd feed her a ton, and if you called her she was usually nearby, but very independent. Pieces and parts of local rodents or birds would be seen - though unlike another of our cats, she didn't usually bring them in.
Eventually my sister went off to college and she became my parent's cat. She got a little more comfortable with other people, anyway.
My favorite Gracie moment: I opened the back door to let her in but she looked a little funny. She's a sleek black cat, about 7 or 8 pounds. But she looked a little jowly. And also she was giving me devil eyes. I knew something was off so I picked her up and gave her a shake.
A bird popped out. A whole, live, apparently unhurt bird. It flipped around a little and then flew out the door. The lightning strikes Gracie tried to called down on my head (judging by her expression) have yet to materialize, but...
Mr Peabody has killed a rather large number of rodents. I've seen him in action and at least it's quick. Usually he just leaves them where they fall, although sometimes he carries them around for a while.
Oh, Gracie. She sounds like a great cat.
A whole, live, apparently unhurt bird.
Man, she must have, like, Bassett Hound jowls!
Our house in the country had a 6-7 foot brick fence. The Big Kitty, our 18-pound Maine Coon cat, presented us with a rabbit that was so large that it dragged on the ground when he carried it. We thanked him, then took the rabbit outside the fence and into a neighboring field. About an hour later, the cat was back at the doorstep with the rabbit. This meant he had to leap to the top of the fence with the rabbit and back down. He looked distinctly put out.
Thanks. Gracie came to me because when she was maybe 15/16, she decided the outdoor life was not for her. She was living with my dad at the time and started being more and more inside (she had a nasty run in or two with something, we don't know what) and eventually shifted from 80% outdoors to 80% indoors.
Unfortunately she is part Siamese, and my dad is allergic in particular to Siamese cats. My sister couldn't take her for reasons, and they spent a long time trying to convince me to take her. The moment I showed the tiniest softening, they were at my door with her. I figured, okay, this will be about six months. That was four years ago.
I've learned a few things. One, that I thought I was both a dog and cat person. I am not. I pretty much hate having an indoor cat, but it's Gracie so I deal. And I will definitely miss the hell out of her when she's gone - the weight on my legs when I go to sleep, meowing back at her when she's being a pain, the way she bosses the dogs without even lifting a paw.
More stories over the weekend. She has had a long, eventful life and I don't want to think about how close she is to the end. But it's coming.
My aunt (who lost her husband this summer) just lost one of her dogs today. A fb friend/local acquaintance did as well, and I encouraged my aunt to do what she did: gather stories.
Gracie sounds like a wonderful cat. I'm glad she's had the kind of life she wanted, and good humans to take care of her. There's something about black part-Siamese cats; I had two, brother and sister, for a long time. Very talky, very smart.
Gracie sounds like a great cat.
We found on the steps of one house -- just a mouse head. It was like a tiny Godfather tableau for, say, a dollhouse.
Clio once left the head of the mouse under the coffee table. I was glad it wasn't in my bed, at least.
