I am a foster mom for the local animal rescue association. Most of the kittens I foster are healthy, loving kittens who are adopted into wonderful homes. However, once in a while no matter how hard I try, I lose a kitten. It always breaks my heart.
This was the case with precious eight-week old Latte’. She was diagnosed with a heart murmur. My vet, Dr. Gordon, explained to me there was no medication or surgery that could help the beautiful long-hair tortoise shell kitten. I held her and kissed her as Dr. Gordon gently helped her pass from this life into the next.
That evening my husband and I prepared to bury little Latte’ in our back yard at the edge of the woods. My husband was busy readying a place to bury her as I stood crying, holding a pink rose for her grave. Our golden retriever, Buddy, stood by me reverently convincing me he knew exactly what was going on.
From the woods I heard the most pitiful “meeooow” I had ever heard. Buddy’s ears perked up as he pointed an emaciated golden tabby cat. As the pitiful creature advanced toward us I realized he was a mere skeleton. He sat down next to one hundred pound Buddy, looked up at him and meowed. In turn, Buddy licked him on the head. As we buried Latte’ and I said a prayer, both Buddy and the pitiful stray sat quietly side-by-side.
As we walked across the yard toward the house I looked over my shoulder to see Buddy and cat following close behind. I hurried into the house and poured a bowl of cat food and water for the starved tabby. The summer heat must have parched the poor fellow because he drank the entire bowl of water before he consumed his food. Afterwards, we sat on the porch and petted the very appreciative kitty. He climbed into my lap and licked my face again and again as if to thank me. Of course, I made him a bed on the back porch where he slept all night. I didn’t want to introduce him to my six indoor cats until he had been checked by a vet.
Bright and early the next morning the cat and I headed for the vet. Dr. Gordon was shocked at his state of malnourishment. He was also amazed at the gentleness of the tabby. All tests proved to be negative. He got his vaccinations and we headed home.
The golden tabby with the beautiful stripes obviously enjoyed being outdoors. My cats have always lived indoors quite happily. I decided to wait and see how things developed with the sweet guy before introducing him to my indoor crew of felines. They all sat with their noses pressed against the window as the new guy on the block crawled into my lap for a nap. I must have sat on the deck for two hours and stroked his soft fur as he slept. When he awoke, he gave me a big lick on the cheek then jumped up on the railing of the deck. He sat perfectly still as he surveyed the backyard of his new home. I commented to my husband that the cat looked as if he was the commander of a ship. Thus, he was named Commander Tom Terrific.
I had a heart-shaped I.D. tag made for him and attached it to a red, white and blue collar. The charmer obviously approved of his name. He would come running to us quickly whenever we called him. I continued to worry about “The Commander” being an outdoor cat.
After he had been with us about three weeks, I left the door open as I unloaded groceries. I glanced up just in time to see The Commander stroll into the kitchen, through the den and out the door. My indoor kitties sat with their eyes as big as saucers but not one of them hissed or raised a paw. Over the next few days The Commander continued to come inside, each time exploring a bit more and staying longer. The evening Hurricane Katrina hit, The Commander climbed into bed with us, crawled under the covers next to Buddy and spent the night safe, warm, happy and loved.
He made a habit of going out for his morning constitutional then coming back inside for breakfast. He had been accepted by the other cats and we had fallen in love with him. He had become Buddy’s best friend. What a life! The Commander was happiest when he was in a lap being petted. If we were sitting down, he was in a lap. He always shared his love, going from one to the other with purrs and kisses for us.
The Commander Tom Terrific napping.
Is this a sweet guy or what!
The Commander giving his best friend, Buddy, a lick on the head.
One morning this past week, I let The Commander out for his morning constitutional. I have no idea why he decided to cross the street. He was evidently coming home for breakfast when he was hit by a car. He had almost made it into the yard. He was killed instantly. My husband and I carried his sweet body to the backyard. Buddy sat by us quietly with his head hung sadly as we buried The Commander Tom Terrific next to little Latte’.
Many tears have been shed. We miss the sweet meow and the warm ball of fur in our lap. We miss his sandpaper tongue on our cheek. Buddy misses his best friend who would curl up and sleep with him.
I planted a yellow rosebush in memory of The Commander. We know whenever the time is right; we will be reunited with our sweet boy. Until then, we have our wonderfully loving memories of The Commander Tom Terrific. Commander, we love you.
Copyright © Sharon Hoffman
July 16, 2006
