RottenJohnny
Posts: 1677
Joined: 5/5/2006 Status: offline
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Maybe to some this is the wrong place for such a thing but when you're losing something that has meant so much to you over the years you need a way to deal with the grief. For me, that means telling my story and listening to those who might wish to share a similar event from their life. As I sit here writing, I'm looking down at the withered, frail body of a cat that has been my best friend for over 14 years. In a way, he has been the one constant in my life while everything else for me has been in a state of perpetual change. Different homes, different friends, different relationships, different jobs. Everything has changed...except Sprocket. A friend brought him to me when he couldn't have been more than a month or two old. He found him hiding from the rain under a dumpster behind the sewing machine repair shop where he worked. He knew my girlfriend was looking for a new kitten since her cat had recently been killed by some idiot punk with a BB-gun. I'd had several cats before but at the time we didn't need a new pet. I was unemployed and Shelly and I were temporarily living in my parents' empty house while they waited for it to sell after moving to Atlanta. There was no way of knowing if we would be able to hold on to him when we finally moved. But she begged me to let her keep him and I'm sure you all know how hard it is to disappoint those you love when they find something that gives them so much happiness. I finally agreed under the condition that I got to choose his name. Now...some of you might think Sprocket is a very strange name to give a pet but my brother and I, being the Harley-Davidson enthusiasts were are, have a tradition of naming our pets after motorcycle parts. He'd already had cats named Shaft and Spoke so when it was my turn to choose a name "Sprocket" was at the top of my list. I found this much more palatable than Shelly's choice of "Zippy" for a name (rolls eyes). Well, as time went on I couldn't help but get more attached to this odd little creature. No matter what you think of cats, something about him just made you want to like him. As a kitten he was a clown, prancing sideways, back and forth, in front of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, always challenging his duplicate to a fight. Later on I discovered he had such a taste for bananas that he was always willing to share mine with me even if I wasn't. When we were both outside he would follow me wherever I went like a well trained dog, never getting far from me. However, he loved nothing more than being lumped over my shoulder where I could run my hand down his back while he rubbed his head against my ear and purred. But like I said, things were changing and when it was time for us to move, Shelly and I split up. She was going to take Sprocket to her new apartment until I saw just how small and confined it was. He was used to being able to run around outside in the woods and she had moved right into the middle of the city. Our last fight was when I told her she couldn't have him. I was now driving a delivery van and had found my own place in a small trailer park that was still somewhat rural. He would be able to go outside there, so I kept him. The trailer park wasn't ideal but he managed to avoid the busy cars and countless kids who were always chasing him or wanting to pet him. I was often thankful for the tree that sat just outside the front door that allowed him to climb out of harms way when he needed to. He would happily sit up on the roof of our converted old hunting cabin until I let him know it was safe to come back down by shaking a container of his favorite treats and calling him inside. The only time this strategy wouldn't work was when Karla (my next girlfriend) was visiting. She had her own cats and I don't think he liked the way she smelled. After starting my own business I bought a home where Sprocket could live uncontested. Living here allowed him to become one of the finest hunters I had ever seen. He unfailingly nabbed every mouse that ever attempted to move inside, removed numerous troublesome birds and squirrels, and even once caught a rabbit. At one point I had planned to remove an old decorative wooden wishing well the previous owners had left behind until I realized it was his favorite place to lay in the sun and nap. I changed my mind and decided to keep it. I figured it was a fair trade for him keeping my life rodent-free. For the past 7 years it's been just the two of us and once again things are changing. Only this time it's different. I have just earned my next degree and am starting a new chapter in my life while Sprocket is writing the final chapter of his. The years have caught up with him and I can see his time left in this world is short. He's stopped eating and barely drinks. He stumbles when he walks and can only seem to use his litter pan when I put him in it. He no longer meows but still manages to purr when I lump him over my shoulder. The veterinarian said his kidneys have shut down and there isn't anything he can do for him. I've made the appointment to have him put to sleep but I'm hoping I don't have to take him. After having so many years of unconditional love it seems like such a betrayal for me to make his last memories those of the only place that truly frightened him. He has always been petrified of the clinic and now I'm giving him a real reason to be. If there truly is a God then I pray he puts him to sleep before then. I don't know if I'll get another pet anytime soon. I'm starting my career over again and have no idea where that path will take me. In the meantime, I guess I'll go over the list of motorcycle parts and look for a suitable name (Clutch?) and find another way to deal with the rodents. I've decided to move the wooden wishing well to a far corner of the yard where the sun will still shine on it and to bury Sprocket under it. It can stay there until it too finally ages and falls apart, a simple memorial for one of my best friends. Sprocket. Beloved pet. August, 1992 - December, 2006
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"I find your arguments strewn with gaping defects in logic." - Mr. Spock "Give me liberty or give me death." - Patrick Henry I believe in common sense, not common opinions. - Me
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