Somewhere Over the Rainbow

A friend helped her kitty over the rainbow bridge last week.  I'd never met Das Whamph as she called him, but I heard so many stories and saw lots of photos.  He was absolutely beautiful and so incredibly loved.  I was shocked when her husband told me how old Whamph was, because he never had that elder-kitty look.

Having been through it once, my heart ached for my friend.  My plans for being super-productive that day were scrapped and instead, I spent a lazy day with Sunny, giving him lots of attention and love.

Sunny gives me so much, just being himself.  Being the only human in the house would be lonely if it weren't for that sweet furry face running to greet me when I get home.  Last night, since I stopped to take the garbage to the curb on my way in, he appeared in the window looking for me.  He knows the sound of my car pulling up and wondered what was taking so long.

I walk in the room when he's sleeping on the couch and he rolls over and shows me his tummy.  My heart skips a beat that an animal, who I'm pretty sure was abused at one point, trusts me enough to be so vulnerable.  He has even started letting me pet that fuzzy tum more and more, which I love.  Soft fuzzy tummies were meant to be pet!

This morning we were playing when I first woke up.  He dove at my hand under the covers.  In spite of the fact that cat play is motivated by the prey drive, none of his claws were extended.  He knew it was me and he didn't want to cause injury.  In the years since I first adopted him, the number of scratches has reduced dramatically.  He used to pounce with claws out, but now he is careful to make sure he doesn't hurt me.

He makes me laugh...a lot.  I love watching the kitty crazies that send him careening around the house, literally launching himself off of walls and furniture (let me tell you, the bank off of the living room wall to do the 180 at the landing of the stairs is really impressive!).  The way he plays with catnip and gets totally stoned absolutely reminds me of some friends from college and beyond (who shall remain nameless).  I laugh through the conversations we have when he wants something,  They come complete with the lip I get when I tell him "no."  I swear he has a meow that he uses after he gets the "I told you, NO!" that makes me hear "whatever" in snide teenager voice every time.

More and more, he has become overtly affectionate.  It used to be that head-butts and rub downs were rare occurrences.  Now, they are just about the daily greeting when I come downstairs in the morning. He has even started letting me hold him for longer periods of time.

I couldn't imagine my life without him and I will do all within my power to make sure that I don't have to for a VERY long time.

So, in memory of the beautiful and beloved Kimbah Timbalaya Whampherbuttamus, let's all take a few minutes to give some extra scritches, love and affection to our own sweet beasties for all that they bring into our lives.