This one is in memory of my cat, Te Amo. We had to have him put down on Saturday, and it was one of the hardest things I’ll ever have to do. He’s been my grumpy, but loyal, roommate for the past twenty-plus years. That’s right, twenty years. Two decades.
I took him home from the SPCA in 1996, as a rambunctious one year old kitten. I named him Te Amo, because I thought it was a brand name of cigar that sounded tough and cool. Turns out, it means “I love you” in Spanish. It suited him – he thought he was pretty tough and aloof, but for his people, he was a softie supreme.
He’s been with me through thick and thin, across the country and back again. He’s cuddled with me at my lowest points, and meowed along at my best times in life.
He was a special little guy – vocal as all get out; healthy as a horse, right up to the end; slow to warm to people, but quick to win their hearts. He was a killer of moths, a snuggler of supreme skill, and never failed to wait outside the bathroom for you. He loved having his chin scratched, hated having his ears cleaned, and overcame a dangerous addiction to expensive canned wet food. He loved sleeping in the sun by the front window, warm blankets and beds, and interrupting my videos. If reincarnation is a thing, he’s coming back on a higher level in his next life, because he did so much good in this one.
Thank you, Te, for twenty amazing years. You lived up to your name. I love you, too.
You’re darn lucky that I’m the one writing this review, and not my cat.
At first, he was cool with it – it’s light enough that he didn’t feel like he had a weight around his neck, and the clear sides meant he wasn’t feeling trapped. But then, he realized that the cone kept him from pawing at a cut on his head, and he got a bit upset. His favourite way of displaying this is to throw up. Thankfully, none of it got in the cone.
Next, he realized he couldn’t effectively headbutt walls anymore (which caused the cut in the first place). That made him rather upset. He retaliated by peeing next to, rather than in, his litter box.
However, he realized that, with careful placement of the cone, he could still reach his food and water. His mood did not noticeably improve, but it did refuel him for more “retaliations”.
It was soft enough for him to be able to sleep comfortably, which allowed him to rest up, and begin his final retaliation maneuver at approximately three in the morning, which was a combination of dragging the cone against the closed bedroom door, and loudly complaining about it. This went on for about ten percent longer than average “anger strikes” (which usually are the result of not getting petted enough, getting petted too much, or pushing all of the food out of his bowl and subsequently thinking he was going to starve to death overnight).
Now, he is an average sized old cat, and the medium size fit him perfectly. I don’t think the small would have worked at all. The collar portion is soft, but it held pretty securely, thanks to the supporting snaps.
He’s had it off for a few days now, and he’s almost forgiven us – but he’ll never forget.