Monday, December 3, 2012

The Bittersweet Moments Our Pets Show Us

The Bittersweet Moments Our Pets Show Us:

Just One Demonstration of Unconditional Love a Pet Gave Me

This originally appeared on my Yahoo.Voices page and was published as a "display only" article and on February 8, 2011

Link to the original article is here: Bittersweet Moments Our Pets Show Us

I think many of us who have pets realize the wonderful unconditional love they have for us. They don't judge us, they don't really ask for much yet are capable of showing their love and affection to us without asking for anything much in return. They know the true meaning of unconditional love, something we humans could learn from.

I was talking about one of my cats over at Facebook. As many of my friends may know, my cat Pyewacket passed on April 19th 2010, yet this isn't about him but about one of my cats that I had years and years ago. Her name was Tippy. You might say I rescued her. It was on a warm May day, many, many years ago in 1983. I was at home and at one point, I looked out the window and saw a circle of kids tossing around a very young tiger-striped kitten as if it were a football. Enraged doesn't quite explain how I felt. I zoomed out of my apt. and went straight over to those kids and demanded they hand over the kitten to me and they did (they no doubt thought I was a looney tune). I cuddled the very scared kitten close to me and took her home.

Despite her ordeal of being treated like a mere object she didn't seem to fear me or her new surroundings considering the fact that I also had about five other cats at the time, and she quickly made herself at home. I named her Tippy since even though she was a tiger-striped cat, at the very tip of her tail was the color of an orange tabby...thus the name "Tippy".

Tippy became one of my cuddle bugs and velcro cat. She would hop on my bed to keep me company while I slept, and even gave me her version of a back message. All this attention she gave me unfortunately seemed to spark the jealousy of another cat named Bobbie. He began to antagonize her, bully her, wanted to fight her all the time, it was like a world war going on day in and day out. She began turning into a scared and timid cat and she felt her only safe place where Bobbie wouldn't bother her was to hop up into a cabinet over the refrigerator. She was to remain there for years and years after never coming down. I would have to place her food on top of the fridge and hoist up the litter pan for her to do her business. She just plain wouldn't come down.

Then one day in 1996 I was sitting in the living room when a movement attracted me from my peripheral vision. Looking directly to the "movement" my jaw dropped as I saw Tippy walking around the living room like she was the Queen of Sheba and unafraid of being bullied. At any moment I expected Bobbie to resort to bullying her again but he didn't. This should have maybe raised alarms as to why she all of a sudden decided to be out and about again, but I was just so happy to see her out and about again. She even resumed hopping up on my bed, giving me her back rubs, just as if nothing happened those years she stuck herself in the cabinet and not coming down from her "sanctuary".

About two weeks passed by after her initial daring day of her escape from her sanctuary , and Tippy remained feeling secure about being out and not afraid of Bobbie, and continued to snuggle up on my bed while I slept . Then one morning, I woke up and saw Tippy lying on the floor near the foot of my bed. I got up and went over to her to pet her thinking she was merely asleep, but no, she was still, lifeless....she had passed on. It was as if though, in her last moments of her life she wanted to be near me and why she was where she was on the floor at the foot of my bed.

I'm sure those of us who are pet owners have our own stories to tell of a pet or pets, who demonstrated their unconditional and trusting love for us even in their final moments of life. The story of Tippy is just one of many for me and I will always remember until my own final day.

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