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| Name: |
Napolean
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Age: |
Deceased, 19 years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Silver Spotted Tabby,
Domestic Short Hair
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| Home: |
Brisbane, Australia
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This
is my beautiful cat, Napoleon. He left my life at 7:30pm on
Saturday 14 June 2008.
Napoleon came into my life when I visited some friends on the way to
school. Two kittens had been abandoned on their doorstep over the
weekend. One kitten raced away and hid in the kitchen cupboard, the
other made a beeline for me, climbed on my lap, curled up and went to
sleep. This scenario repeated itself that afternoon, the next day and
the following afternoon. I had to have one and, naturally chose the one
who chose me.
Napoleon was my shadow for the first few years, literally following me
wherever I went. If I sat down, he climbed on my lap. He slept curled
up near my face at night and even ventured into the shower one day
because he wanted to be with me (but the water soon dissuaded him of a
repeat venture, so he would climb on the wall of the shower and sit
there.) The first weekend I went away and left him at home my mother
told me he paced the house the whole time looking for me. When he
turned ten I went overseas for three weeks. Upon returning home Napoleon
looked like a ghost, his fur had lost so much colour due to his distress
at my absence.
Napoleon had the most amazing time clock. Until this year I did not
need to set an alarm for Napoleon knew what time I needed to be up and
would wake me (getting quite concerned on long weekends when I didn't
get out of bed at the usual time). He would wait at the door for me to
arrive home from school and work, even when my working hours changed he
knew. However, if for some reason I was late home he would get very
distressed - except if I knew I would be working back and told him in
the morning that I'd be home late. He was so incredibly intelligent he
genuinely understood everything I said to him. But sometimes he was too
intelligent for me. An example: I would wake at 6am to get ready for
work but some weekends I wanted to sleep in so I would say 'Napoleon,
you don't need to wake me at 6 tomorrow morning'. As requested, I would
be instead woken at quarter to 6!! (Not what I had meant, but still, an
accurate interpretation of my request!!)
Although he showed interest in birds when young he learned that he
should not catch them so they could land on the grass quite close to him
and he would ignore them. He loved to go walking with me and explore
the bushland which was beyond our backyard. He could sit for hours
fascinated by the tiny bushland creatures he would find during our
walks.
With Napoleon I understood why the Egyptians worshipped cats and was
convinced he was descended from one of their deities. He always
possessed a regal air about him and would sit, waiting for food or
attention with the most elegant of poses. Even when he wasn't feeling
well and in his last few days he still maintained a regal manner. His
taste in food was for nothing but the best (He was keen to try whatever
it was I happened to be eating. He never understood how I could eat
oranges. He loved gourmet vanilla ice-cream!) In his last few years,
although he would drink the rainwater from containers outside, his inside
drinking water had to be bottled.
When he turned thirteen Napoleon was diagnosed with diabetes. This resulted
in my having to give him insulin injections once or twice a day plus at
least four visits to the vet a year to have his blood glucose levels
monitored (more needles!). Napoleon was the most tolerant cat, allowing
me to inject him without struggling or complaining. Even the vets would
comment on how amazingly tolerant he was. When he was due for insulin
he would even come and find me to remind me! Four years ago he
developed a bronchial infection which made him so sick I thought I was
going to lose him. To my relief he responded within days to
antibiotics. Then three years ago he developed a squamous cell
carcinoma on his nose which, once it stopped responding to being frozen,
eventually had to be removed. He came through the surgery with flying
colours and put up with having to wear a large plastic collar for a week
without complaint. Two years ago he was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism.
Due to his age surgery to remove the benign tumour was out of the
question so I gave him the tablets to control this condition hidden in
meatballs. This became a thrice daily treat he looked forward to. He
also developed problems with elevated enzyme levels in his liver a year
ago, but a course of medication (fortunately) resolved that.
Unfortunately late last year he developed another squamous cell
carcinoma, which was incorrectly diagnosed as a type of dermatitis. By
the time it was correctly identified and I had tracked down a herbal
treatment for this condition the cancer on the side of his nose which
was operated on three years ago had taken a very strong hold. My beautiful
boy ending up losing half of his nose before his poor little body
finally no longer had the strength to fight all the illnesses nature
chose to throw his way. At the age of 19 years 4 months and 2 days the
most amazing and precious creature to ever grace my life left me.
I miss him more every day and would give anything for just one more day
to have him, just to hold. Instead I wrap myself in the many, many
happy memories with which he has left me and look forward to the day
when we are reunited.
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