Growing up I was a dog person. This was because our family always had a family dog, and never had cats after I was about two and the family cat got locked in a room for more than a day with no box…and decided never to use a cat box again since that was so nice and easy. But we always had dogs and the only cats I knew were skittish neighborhood cats that didn’t want to be touched, a Siamese that a friend had which liked nothing better than to attack people, and a wild kitten that ‘followed me home’ (he might’ve been coerced) and lived with us for about a month until we realized he was truly wild and my dad dropped him off at a local farm.
When I became an adult and wanted a pet, I lived in an apartment so I got a cat and had my first extended exposure to my own cat, Shay. Her actual name was Scheherazade (one of my favorite pieces of music), but I called her Shay. Shay laid claim to me on the first morning as I was waking up after I’d gotten her….by peeing on me (right in bed…and I thought OMG, what have I done.) She never did it again and lived to be about 13, the last 6 with my sister. She’d grown up with Genilee’s cat Winston while I lived with my sister and we didn’t want to split them up when we parted, so she got them both.
A Few years later I got my first House with Jim and George, and immediately got my boys….Bruiser Spike and Skippy, the Jack Russell Terriers. They were wonderful, wonderful dogs. When they were 5 years old and George and I were on our own, I decided I wanted to add a cat to the mix. Now JR people will tell you that you don’t mix JRs with cats because their nature is to eat the cat, and they often don’t get along. But I’m stubborn and knew my boys, and really wanted a cat. I started looking into Purebred cat breeds when my sister acquired a stray calico, which turned out to be pregnant. I couldn’t go pay for a kitten and leave those without homes, so I told her I’d take one, and naturally she said, ‘no, you’ll take two….can’t leave a poor kitten alone with those dogs.’. After much arm-twisting (not), I decided to get two.
When the kittens were born, there were two typical Tabbies, two tabbies with some white on them, and two Orange Tabbies. I saw them when they were a few weeks old and eyes were already open, and they were just starting to move about. Genilee brought them all out to me and I was already in love. One of the orange Tabbies immediately came over to look at me and pay attention to me, although the others all ignored me, so I decided on the spot that was one of my kittens. I visited about 4-5 more times to get to know them a bit better and every other time I visited that same Orange tabby ignored me, but the OTHER orange tabby was really friendly and paid attention to me. I resisted getting both of the orange ones for awhile, but I truly fell in love with the second one…but couldn’t go back on my resolve to get the first one who looked at me, so I ended up with both Orange Tabbies.
The day I brought them home to the house was very interesting. Bruiser, Spike and Skippy had no clue what these things I brought home were, and I was sort of afraid of what I’d read, so I refused to let them get closer than 2-3 feet. But they could SMELL them and thought I’d brought home snacks…chaseable furry snacks!! I let each dog get close enough to the kittens to put their nose in it (watching like a hawk), but that just made them even more nervous. So the dogs were quivering and panting for the next several hours, and I put the kittens in another room….dogs wouldn’t leave the door…lol. We decided we’d better sleep in different rooms, so George and I slept apart for a week or so. Several days went by and the dogs remained nervous wrecks…I’d let them get close, but never when I wasn’t’ around, and they never stopped panting and acting nervous. Rachi and Copeland….they were not even slightly intimidated by the dogs, and just were oblivious. They knew perfectly well that everything in the world should adore them. About the 5th day, Spike….who was the MOST nervous and excited, but also by far the smartest….relaxed and decided that he was supposed to accept them as part of the family, and his brothers just went along because they largely followed his lead on most things. Never had any issues after that and the 5 of them always got along. Rachi and Copeland already knew they were part of the family, and they were oblivious to the nervousness, and always liked the dogs, even when the dogs thought they were furry little snacks.
Copeland was the cat who originally came out and sniffed me the first time, but not really again in the following visits. It was really a precursor to his personality because I never saw a more outgoing cat in my life. He LOVED it when anyone he didn’t’ know came into the house and he would be right there to greet them and spend time with them…any stranger would do. He was a wonderful cat who died very abruptly from cancer when he was 10….gave me no warning as I thought he was fine one night, but had to be put down the next as he was too far gone to help. I had no clue. He was very friendly throughout his life and was a special cat.
However, the most special cat I’ve ever known was his brother Rachi (pronounced Rocky, but named for Rachmaninoff.) Like his brother, he showed me aspects of his personality right from the first time I met him….slightly more reserved initially than his brother, but still very outgoing for a cat, and he was MY boy (or perhaps I was his) and never stopped coming to me. We adored each other completely. He didn’t’ come out to greet me the first visit, but every other visit he was the one kitten who always came to me first, wanted to play with me, even sit with me. I was foolish enough to almost not take him simply because he looked like his brother, but that would’ve been an enormous mistake.
People visiting us always commented on how friendly Copeland was, which was true. But Rachi was also very outgoing…he’d be there to greet strangers within a minute or two after Copeland…but he was our cat…it was George and I that he was interested in, not strangers. So he’d greet them and be out and about, but not going to the strangers to be petted (whereas Copeland was rather insistent to any stranger that they will pet him NOW.)
When it came to us, Copeland was very sweet and friendly (and he liked my left shoulder and chest) and would come around on his own terms to be petted…but generally wanted to be on his feet and didn’t’ like being picked up. He only wanted to be on you if he instigated it…like most cats.
Rachi was always there for me, every moment of the day. He was big, 15-16 pounds (Copeland was even bigger at 18), but very much a lap cat and shoulder cat. Almost immediately he established my right shoulder and chest as his place by simply crawling up there the first day and settling in to purr. He spent the next 12 years there and I’d hoped it would be the next 25. And that cat would start to purr every time I came near him throughout his life…..and if I could’ve, I would’ve purred right back. It’s an incredibly special feeling when connecting physically and emotionally with your animal. Rachi always knew when I needed him, and never ever refused me. I could pick him up anytime I wanted and he’d settle in. And if I waited too long, he’d just come around and insist….and trust me he was persistant. Even when I’d play on the computer and not be paying attention or even be looking at him, he’d simply come sit in front of the monitor facing me, often with butt on the keyboard….he was so big that I’d have to look around him to keep playing. If I still didn’t stop and start loving on him, he’d sit there, put his paws on my stomach and make love paws on my stomach…purring the whole time, then eventually just crawl up onto my shoulder anyhow. Wasn’t much I could do and I did NOT need to be playing that damn game when he wanted attention!
When it was ME that wanted attention, I could always find Rachi, usually lounging on the bed, and go hug him…and I mean literally hug him and encircle him with my arms and even squeeze a bit. I could bury my face in him anywhere. Most cats would freak out or at least leave when you do that and they weren’t asking for it…Rachi would purr and nuzzle me back. And oh what a nuzzler he was. I think he liked my chest/shoulder so much partially because it put our heads closer together and one or the other of us would start rubbing our face on the other. When Rachi and I loved on each other, we used our entire beings.
Rachi kept his claws and I cut them periodically. He was great about it except for one particular Claw…I could do the other 19 and he’d be fine, but he’d start to fight me as soon as I tried that one….it was a challenge….and he’d get MAD….right until I let him go, and I could immediately go bury my face in him again. He never held a grudge, no matter what I did to him. He loved me unconditionally, and I loved him just the same.
I don’t want to take away from George’s relationship with Rachi either. George had never had a cat before Rachi and Copeland (and never had a pet before the dogs), so he didn’t know what to expect. He loved Rachi (and Copeland) just like I did and they had a special relationship. What a great way to learn to love cats. In fact, one of the most telling aspects of Rachi’s personality is the effect he had on Jim Brooks. Jim was a true cat HATER before Rachi and Copeland. He used to joke about killing a cat whenever he saw one all the time, and pretended to swerve to hit them in the car. He thought they were just awful, pure hair and filthy and nasty. When you never have a cat, I can see how it’s easy to get the impression that they are unfriendly, because most ARE unfriendly to strangers at best. But Jim often babysat for the dogs for us, which meant spending time in our house with our cats. Rachi and Copeland turned him around completely to not only stop hating all cats, but to start to see how special they can be. Someday I will get Jim to have a cat now…I’m convinced of that. And it’s totally because of Rachi and his brother. He insisted on being Jim’s lap cat too when I wasn’t around.
When Copeland died, Rachi was sort of lost for awhile….he’d always had his brother and the two of them were very interactive with each other just like with us. Rachi I swear just didn’t’ seem himself in the weeks after Copeland passed. So me being me, I decided I needed a companion for Rachi (which turned out to be two kittens…again brothers.) So about two months after Copeland died, I brought home Bert and Sully (Gilbert and Sullivan), two Tonkinese kittens. I’d taken what I’d read about various cat breeds back before I got Rachi, and picked out a breed who’s personality seemed like it would mesh with Rachi…outgoing, playful and friendly and affectionate. For the first week, Rachi had the normal cat reaction…hiss whenever they come around and generally act pissed off because they’d invaded his house. But like Spike, Rachi was smart, and overnight accepted them as his baby brothers. From that moment, he perked back up and was himself again..a happy, contented Boo. And I mean Rachi treated them like he was truly their big brother….loved them, loved on them, beat them up regularly. Sully especially treated Rachi like a brother….Sully would come love on me and every time he’d leave my lap, he’d run over to Rachi and rub up on him for awhile. Rachi, being 11 at the time, was a little old for actual play, but he’d tolerate that too and be ready for love when it was over. If they bugged him too much, he’d fight back or move away…and two seconds later be their best friend again. He was the most sociable animal I know.
I had a million names for him and rarely called him Rachi…he was Rachiboo, kittyboo, bookitty, boo, bigboy. He became Bigboo when I got the kittens (Sully was Littleboo and Bert is Tinyboo.) But the best name for him was Perfectboo. Rachi was everything I ever wanted in a cat…he was my Bruiser in the cat world.
Last Thursday when I got home from work, Rachi was totally himself, sweet, loving, outgoing, normal. However, I’d been noticing for awhile that he seemed a bit thin….I could feel his spine. I guess I was avoiding it, but it hit me that night and I decided to weigh him. If my scale was right, he was down to under 13 pounds…and had been over 15 at his last checkup. I was immediately concerned and knew I needed to get him into the vet right away. I decided to make an appt the next day, but I got really freaked overnight and just put him in the car and showed up there Friday morning when they opened. Before I took him, I cut his nails, and when he was on his back in my arms, he started to breathe strange….the FIRST indication besides weight loss that there was anything wrong. I told the vet all about him and left him Friday morning for a battery of tests. By Friday night, Rachi was gone from me forever. He had a massive tumor in his lungs and they were filling up with fluid (thus the hard breathing) and had already lost over 3 pounds. I had to make an instant decision…I could try to have fluid removed and bring him home for a day or two, but there was no hope and his lungs would just fill again. There was no decision to make….Rachi was not going to suffer, but it was still agonizing to make it.
It killed me, but I had to say goodbye to the perfect cat, who only the day before had shown me no signs that there was anything wrong.
I feel lost without Rachi. I’m in shock. I feel cheated out of my years with him that I should’ve had. Skippy was diagnosed with cancer 6 months ago and we were told he’d only last a week or two. So every day for the last 6 months has been a death watch, where I go to him and check to see if he’s breathing. Skippy is still with me and I still can’t believe that Rachi is gone and went before him. I know you can never count on these things, but since I’d lost all three dogs to cancer, and Copeland to cancer, I thought surely this would be something else, Diabetes (simple shots for life) or something like that…how could it be cancer AGAIN?! How could it possibly happen so quickly when he’d seemed so perfectly fine the night before? How could it happen almost exactly like it happened with his brother? Where is the fairness in life? How can my Rachi be gone??!! When I lost Copeland at only 10, despite him being a great cat, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and counted my lucky stars because it wasn’t Rachi. I convinced myself that he would live into his 20s (have good friends who just put their cat down at 21, and two years ago put their other cat down after 21 years too.)
I was foolish, and I am shocked…and I feel cheated. But mostly I am just sad to my bone that he’s gone and I’ll never see him again, never bury my face in his fur and never hear that purr. It wasn’t loud, but it was the essence of Rachi.
Only 6 years ago, I had 5 fabulous animals, Bruiser, Spike, Skippy, Copeland and Rachi. They were all boys and the dogs were always ‘the boys’…until Rachi and Copeland wormed their way into our hearts too. Collectively they were all ‘the boys’….and now all my boys are gone….and all to cancer….all different types too. With the exception of Skippy (still technically with me)…none of them lived as long as they should’ve.
I have two new boys in my life….Bert and Sully….and I love them too, but they will never be ‘the boys’.
I miss you baby.
When I became an adult and wanted a pet, I lived in an apartment so I got a cat and had my first extended exposure to my own cat, Shay. Her actual name was Scheherazade (one of my favorite pieces of music), but I called her Shay. Shay laid claim to me on the first morning as I was waking up after I’d gotten her….by peeing on me (right in bed…and I thought OMG, what have I done.) She never did it again and lived to be about 13, the last 6 with my sister. She’d grown up with Genilee’s cat Winston while I lived with my sister and we didn’t want to split them up when we parted, so she got them both.
A Few years later I got my first House with Jim and George, and immediately got my boys….Bruiser Spike and Skippy, the Jack Russell Terriers. They were wonderful, wonderful dogs. When they were 5 years old and George and I were on our own, I decided I wanted to add a cat to the mix. Now JR people will tell you that you don’t mix JRs with cats because their nature is to eat the cat, and they often don’t get along. But I’m stubborn and knew my boys, and really wanted a cat. I started looking into Purebred cat breeds when my sister acquired a stray calico, which turned out to be pregnant. I couldn’t go pay for a kitten and leave those without homes, so I told her I’d take one, and naturally she said, ‘no, you’ll take two….can’t leave a poor kitten alone with those dogs.’. After much arm-twisting (not), I decided to get two.
When the kittens were born, there were two typical Tabbies, two tabbies with some white on them, and two Orange Tabbies. I saw them when they were a few weeks old and eyes were already open, and they were just starting to move about. Genilee brought them all out to me and I was already in love. One of the orange Tabbies immediately came over to look at me and pay attention to me, although the others all ignored me, so I decided on the spot that was one of my kittens. I visited about 4-5 more times to get to know them a bit better and every other time I visited that same Orange tabby ignored me, but the OTHER orange tabby was really friendly and paid attention to me. I resisted getting both of the orange ones for awhile, but I truly fell in love with the second one…but couldn’t go back on my resolve to get the first one who looked at me, so I ended up with both Orange Tabbies.
The day I brought them home to the house was very interesting. Bruiser, Spike and Skippy had no clue what these things I brought home were, and I was sort of afraid of what I’d read, so I refused to let them get closer than 2-3 feet. But they could SMELL them and thought I’d brought home snacks…chaseable furry snacks!! I let each dog get close enough to the kittens to put their nose in it (watching like a hawk), but that just made them even more nervous. So the dogs were quivering and panting for the next several hours, and I put the kittens in another room….dogs wouldn’t leave the door…lol. We decided we’d better sleep in different rooms, so George and I slept apart for a week or so. Several days went by and the dogs remained nervous wrecks…I’d let them get close, but never when I wasn’t’ around, and they never stopped panting and acting nervous. Rachi and Copeland….they were not even slightly intimidated by the dogs, and just were oblivious. They knew perfectly well that everything in the world should adore them. About the 5th day, Spike….who was the MOST nervous and excited, but also by far the smartest….relaxed and decided that he was supposed to accept them as part of the family, and his brothers just went along because they largely followed his lead on most things. Never had any issues after that and the 5 of them always got along. Rachi and Copeland already knew they were part of the family, and they were oblivious to the nervousness, and always liked the dogs, even when the dogs thought they were furry little snacks.
Copeland was the cat who originally came out and sniffed me the first time, but not really again in the following visits. It was really a precursor to his personality because I never saw a more outgoing cat in my life. He LOVED it when anyone he didn’t’ know came into the house and he would be right there to greet them and spend time with them…any stranger would do. He was a wonderful cat who died very abruptly from cancer when he was 10….gave me no warning as I thought he was fine one night, but had to be put down the next as he was too far gone to help. I had no clue. He was very friendly throughout his life and was a special cat.
However, the most special cat I’ve ever known was his brother Rachi (pronounced Rocky, but named for Rachmaninoff.) Like his brother, he showed me aspects of his personality right from the first time I met him….slightly more reserved initially than his brother, but still very outgoing for a cat, and he was MY boy (or perhaps I was his) and never stopped coming to me. We adored each other completely. He didn’t’ come out to greet me the first visit, but every other visit he was the one kitten who always came to me first, wanted to play with me, even sit with me. I was foolish enough to almost not take him simply because he looked like his brother, but that would’ve been an enormous mistake.
People visiting us always commented on how friendly Copeland was, which was true. But Rachi was also very outgoing…he’d be there to greet strangers within a minute or two after Copeland…but he was our cat…it was George and I that he was interested in, not strangers. So he’d greet them and be out and about, but not going to the strangers to be petted (whereas Copeland was rather insistent to any stranger that they will pet him NOW.)
When it came to us, Copeland was very sweet and friendly (and he liked my left shoulder and chest) and would come around on his own terms to be petted…but generally wanted to be on his feet and didn’t’ like being picked up. He only wanted to be on you if he instigated it…like most cats.
Rachi was always there for me, every moment of the day. He was big, 15-16 pounds (Copeland was even bigger at 18), but very much a lap cat and shoulder cat. Almost immediately he established my right shoulder and chest as his place by simply crawling up there the first day and settling in to purr. He spent the next 12 years there and I’d hoped it would be the next 25. And that cat would start to purr every time I came near him throughout his life…..and if I could’ve, I would’ve purred right back. It’s an incredibly special feeling when connecting physically and emotionally with your animal. Rachi always knew when I needed him, and never ever refused me. I could pick him up anytime I wanted and he’d settle in. And if I waited too long, he’d just come around and insist….and trust me he was persistant. Even when I’d play on the computer and not be paying attention or even be looking at him, he’d simply come sit in front of the monitor facing me, often with butt on the keyboard….he was so big that I’d have to look around him to keep playing. If I still didn’t stop and start loving on him, he’d sit there, put his paws on my stomach and make love paws on my stomach…purring the whole time, then eventually just crawl up onto my shoulder anyhow. Wasn’t much I could do and I did NOT need to be playing that damn game when he wanted attention!
When it was ME that wanted attention, I could always find Rachi, usually lounging on the bed, and go hug him…and I mean literally hug him and encircle him with my arms and even squeeze a bit. I could bury my face in him anywhere. Most cats would freak out or at least leave when you do that and they weren’t asking for it…Rachi would purr and nuzzle me back. And oh what a nuzzler he was. I think he liked my chest/shoulder so much partially because it put our heads closer together and one or the other of us would start rubbing our face on the other. When Rachi and I loved on each other, we used our entire beings.
Rachi kept his claws and I cut them periodically. He was great about it except for one particular Claw…I could do the other 19 and he’d be fine, but he’d start to fight me as soon as I tried that one….it was a challenge….and he’d get MAD….right until I let him go, and I could immediately go bury my face in him again. He never held a grudge, no matter what I did to him. He loved me unconditionally, and I loved him just the same.
I don’t want to take away from George’s relationship with Rachi either. George had never had a cat before Rachi and Copeland (and never had a pet before the dogs), so he didn’t know what to expect. He loved Rachi (and Copeland) just like I did and they had a special relationship. What a great way to learn to love cats. In fact, one of the most telling aspects of Rachi’s personality is the effect he had on Jim Brooks. Jim was a true cat HATER before Rachi and Copeland. He used to joke about killing a cat whenever he saw one all the time, and pretended to swerve to hit them in the car. He thought they were just awful, pure hair and filthy and nasty. When you never have a cat, I can see how it’s easy to get the impression that they are unfriendly, because most ARE unfriendly to strangers at best. But Jim often babysat for the dogs for us, which meant spending time in our house with our cats. Rachi and Copeland turned him around completely to not only stop hating all cats, but to start to see how special they can be. Someday I will get Jim to have a cat now…I’m convinced of that. And it’s totally because of Rachi and his brother. He insisted on being Jim’s lap cat too when I wasn’t around.
When Copeland died, Rachi was sort of lost for awhile….he’d always had his brother and the two of them were very interactive with each other just like with us. Rachi I swear just didn’t’ seem himself in the weeks after Copeland passed. So me being me, I decided I needed a companion for Rachi (which turned out to be two kittens…again brothers.) So about two months after Copeland died, I brought home Bert and Sully (Gilbert and Sullivan), two Tonkinese kittens. I’d taken what I’d read about various cat breeds back before I got Rachi, and picked out a breed who’s personality seemed like it would mesh with Rachi…outgoing, playful and friendly and affectionate. For the first week, Rachi had the normal cat reaction…hiss whenever they come around and generally act pissed off because they’d invaded his house. But like Spike, Rachi was smart, and overnight accepted them as his baby brothers. From that moment, he perked back up and was himself again..a happy, contented Boo. And I mean Rachi treated them like he was truly their big brother….loved them, loved on them, beat them up regularly. Sully especially treated Rachi like a brother….Sully would come love on me and every time he’d leave my lap, he’d run over to Rachi and rub up on him for awhile. Rachi, being 11 at the time, was a little old for actual play, but he’d tolerate that too and be ready for love when it was over. If they bugged him too much, he’d fight back or move away…and two seconds later be their best friend again. He was the most sociable animal I know.
I had a million names for him and rarely called him Rachi…he was Rachiboo, kittyboo, bookitty, boo, bigboy. He became Bigboo when I got the kittens (Sully was Littleboo and Bert is Tinyboo.) But the best name for him was Perfectboo. Rachi was everything I ever wanted in a cat…he was my Bruiser in the cat world.
Last Thursday when I got home from work, Rachi was totally himself, sweet, loving, outgoing, normal. However, I’d been noticing for awhile that he seemed a bit thin….I could feel his spine. I guess I was avoiding it, but it hit me that night and I decided to weigh him. If my scale was right, he was down to under 13 pounds…and had been over 15 at his last checkup. I was immediately concerned and knew I needed to get him into the vet right away. I decided to make an appt the next day, but I got really freaked overnight and just put him in the car and showed up there Friday morning when they opened. Before I took him, I cut his nails, and when he was on his back in my arms, he started to breathe strange….the FIRST indication besides weight loss that there was anything wrong. I told the vet all about him and left him Friday morning for a battery of tests. By Friday night, Rachi was gone from me forever. He had a massive tumor in his lungs and they were filling up with fluid (thus the hard breathing) and had already lost over 3 pounds. I had to make an instant decision…I could try to have fluid removed and bring him home for a day or two, but there was no hope and his lungs would just fill again. There was no decision to make….Rachi was not going to suffer, but it was still agonizing to make it.
It killed me, but I had to say goodbye to the perfect cat, who only the day before had shown me no signs that there was anything wrong.
I feel lost without Rachi. I’m in shock. I feel cheated out of my years with him that I should’ve had. Skippy was diagnosed with cancer 6 months ago and we were told he’d only last a week or two. So every day for the last 6 months has been a death watch, where I go to him and check to see if he’s breathing. Skippy is still with me and I still can’t believe that Rachi is gone and went before him. I know you can never count on these things, but since I’d lost all three dogs to cancer, and Copeland to cancer, I thought surely this would be something else, Diabetes (simple shots for life) or something like that…how could it be cancer AGAIN?! How could it possibly happen so quickly when he’d seemed so perfectly fine the night before? How could it happen almost exactly like it happened with his brother? Where is the fairness in life? How can my Rachi be gone??!! When I lost Copeland at only 10, despite him being a great cat, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and counted my lucky stars because it wasn’t Rachi. I convinced myself that he would live into his 20s (have good friends who just put their cat down at 21, and two years ago put their other cat down after 21 years too.)
I was foolish, and I am shocked…and I feel cheated. But mostly I am just sad to my bone that he’s gone and I’ll never see him again, never bury my face in his fur and never hear that purr. It wasn’t loud, but it was the essence of Rachi.
Only 6 years ago, I had 5 fabulous animals, Bruiser, Spike, Skippy, Copeland and Rachi. They were all boys and the dogs were always ‘the boys’…until Rachi and Copeland wormed their way into our hearts too. Collectively they were all ‘the boys’….and now all my boys are gone….and all to cancer….all different types too. With the exception of Skippy (still technically with me)…none of them lived as long as they should’ve.
I have two new boys in my life….Bert and Sully….and I love them too, but they will never be ‘the boys’.
I miss you baby.
