Othello ~Jan 1990 - June 4, 2005~

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Mood: sad

Today my household is in mourning. We have lost a dear part of our family. Othello was our 15-year-old tomcat, and he died this morning. Hubby is especially devastated

My husband got Othello at the age of 6 weeks from some friends of his. He was a jet black cat with the most beautiful golden eyes. He was fearless - taking on large dogs and even a big snake or two. He'd walk right up to our black lab/chow mix dog and rake his claws across her snout just to remind her who was in charge.

I came to know Othello when I met my husband in 2001. Even though I only knew Othello for four years, we had quite a history. First, there began the War of the Bathmats. Hubby had never had bathmats in the house. He'd just throw down a towel for each shower. I like bathmats, so I bought one for each bathroom. Othello wasn't having any part of it - he peed on both of them the very first day. Oh, yes....Othello was talented at expressing his displeasure! So, I rubbed the cat's nose in it, washed the bathmats, and put them back out. He shit on them. I chased the cat and washed them again. He soiled them again. This went on the entire four years. My darling husband - he started picking the bathmats up when Othello wanted to drink from the tub faucet, just to keep the peace.

Next was the Countertop Flying Lessons. I grew up always having cats around. They were never allowed on the kitchen table or counters, as this is considered unsanitary where I'm from. Hubby had been feeding Othello right up on the counter, and letting him drink from the running tap in the kitchen sink for years. He'd also get the cat a drink of water - get this - IN A GLASS (animals eating/drinking out of dishware grosses me out). Hubby would set the glass in the sink, and the cat would drink. I tried to convert the cat to eating from pet dishes on the floor. The cat refused to drink, and kept jumping up on the counters to look for his food. I'd set him down. He'd jump back up. Soon, he was taking flying lessons off the end of the counter. I think that cat had a degree in aviation by the time I won that battle!

Othello was the reason our windows have no screens. He shredded them long before I met Hubby. If Othello wanted to come back in the house in the middle of the night, he'd jump up and rake his claws down the vinyl window frame at our bedroom window. Now that, my friends, is a hell of a sound! It's like "OK! OK! I'm up, I'm up and I'm opening the door, just don't DO that again!" I suppose we'll be getting more sleep now, but that's not that big a deal right this minute.

Not everything was bad with Othello. He was quite a comical and quirky cat, when you get right down to it. He loved to drink from the tub, as I've mentioned. The water had to be a slow stream, and he'd stand in the tub in front of the stream of water, stick his cupped paw in, and pull the water to his mouth. It was adorable! He also used to tap us to get our attention. The first time he did it to me was in the middle of the night. We had pulled the mattress out into the living room in front of the couch so we could sleep near the crackling fireplace. I dozed off, and after a while, just about jumped off the bed - Othello was sitting on the couch above my head, and had reached down with his paw and tapped me on the head. When I sat up, I looked back to see what had hit me, and Othello was looking at me like, "Well?". Hubby laughed himself silly. Apparently, this was Othello's customary way of asking for a drink or to go out at night. I didn't think it was very funny at 3am, but later, I had many chances to observe Othello doing this to hubby, and it really was adorable. He'd get the most thoughtful look on his face, and oh-so-gently reach out and nudge hubby's face. If hubby was at the computer, the cat would reach up and nudge his elbow. Sweet.

About eight months ago, we spent $1500 at the vet for Othello. He needed surgery. He had somehow put a hole in his diaphragm, and his gallbladder had gotten pulled partway through and was being squeezed. We didn't know that at the time, though. All the vet knew for sure was that his bilirubin and blood pressure were high. Hubby wasn't ready to let Othello go yet, so we did the surgery. We're glad we did, since it turned out to be an injury that was relatively easy to fix. It was a close call, though, and I think it did a lot to prepare Hubby for losing Othello.

Othello moved to Colorado and back with Hubby. He got loose in a hotel parking lot on the way back, and amazingly wasn't killed (highway very close by) before he was recaptured. Othello once fell asleep in the back of a neighbor's car, and the neighbor got down the road and almost had heart failure when Othello jumped up on the back of the driver's seat and tapped him on the shoulder.

Othello, honey, you had spunk. While we didn't always see eye to eye, you were an interesting part of our family. We'll miss you, baby.

Rest easy, now little one.


Edgar said...

Requiescat in pace.

I would have thought that 15 years was an extraordinary age for a cat.

BTW, very nice design. I love the header. Although it seems to have nothing to do with the blog's general contents.

Gordon said...

Sorry to hear you've lost your cat, 15 years is a long time.

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