I'm delaying publishing today's slated blog due to the sudden death of our dear Butter Cream last night. Those of you that knew Butter I know are also saddened by this loss. In memory and honor of Butter I'm forcing myself to face the issue head on and write about it for all to read. I saw many pets die and consoled many grieving pet owners when I was the Director of the Pulaski County Humane Society but it is never like losing one of your own. Here is Butter's story...
Butter was found strolling downtown Pulaski's Main Street. I asked a man if it was his cat because Butter was rubbing on his leg and walking right with him. I tried to sell the man on taking the cat - NOPE - I remember him saying "he's a Tom" and then I too noticed he certainly was! I have a great weakness for yellow tabbies and the poor cat was ALONE and LOST and in middle of the bustling downtown traffic area (if you know downtown PU, that a misnomer). He could get hit and die (these were all good details to relay to husband at home).
We were pet-less and had been since our dear Tator died 2 years prior. It was just a cat after all and they can stay outside (my feelings on this have changed since). Butter eventually made his way into our house. He was an inside at night, outside during the day kinda cat. He would patrol the property - we would watch him walk straight down our side property line! He would hang out in the garden and enjoy the sun and chat w/me. He loved to talk. You would just hear him chatting away on the porch. As if that was his place to have a conversation about how content he was. If he wanted outside he would let you know (which was usually at night when you were asleep) very loudly until you let him out or went insane, which ever was first!
When I was little my Grandparents (who's house we ended up living in when we found Butter) had a yellow tabby named "Mew". He had asthma just like my Grandfather and was treated with his medicines! Mew would let me pick him up (the cat was bigger than me) and pet him and I loved Mew. He was a permanent fixture on Pleasant Hill. It was a little odd that I picked up a chatty yellow tabby, as if there needed to always be a "Mew" in that house.
Between my early years and my later years we always had dogs and I proudly exclaimed to anyone that asked that I was a "dog person". I'm not sure why we have to take sides on this matter - may be because they are polar opposite creatures. Even though Butter really acted like a dog in several ways. He was NOT a fraidy cat. Butter would sit on the arm of the sofa beside the front door and growl at any stranger. He would not run and hide when visitors came, he greeted them. My other three cats are chickens, running and hiding when they hear something strange. Butter was the king of the house - strolling around like he was "in charge". By the way, if asked, I now would say I'm a "cat person".
He did have his submissive moments, like every night when he would get on his bankie (a hand crocheted wedding present) and knead it with a piece of it in his mouth! It was so funny to watch the king of the castle turn into a baby before your eyes. Butter would have a conversation with me. I would hear him going on and on and I would interject. He would respond, then I would respond, and on and on. My other cats do not do this. I will miss this the most of all. His voice is now silent. Our bed is now devoid of all pets, the first time in a dozen years! We lost our dear dog Daisy 2 months ago and she and Butter slept with us (it was a bit crowded).
Anthony buried Butter this am IN THE DARK. He thought it fitting since he was nocturnal. I looked out at 6:30 and there was a spotlight and my husband digging. Anthony has buried too many pets to count. When I was with the humane society, I couldn't stand the thought of some of the more special cats being hauled off so I would take them home and Anthony would bury them without complaint. It seems so strange not putting Butter with the other pets on Pleasant Hill but at least he is with us.
The loss of a pet is never easy and a I can only be grateful that he went quickly and that such options exist for our pets dear to us. I was thinking back on his last day... Several hours before he passed, I heard a great thumping and banging and looked over to see him batting and chasing his favorite mouse. Earlier in the day, he ate his favorite meal (canned food) and sat on Anthony's lap. Most of the morning he was stretching in the sun on the back porch looking very happy.