Nod
A donation was made in memory of Nod by Doctors and Staff of the Northwest Animal Hospital on Feb 07, 2011.
Ode to Nod
What an amazing cat you were. How many times have I told your story to astonished listeners? Young and old alike would be full of questions- “A blind cat? How does he get around?” “He really doesn’t have any eyes?” “What happened to his eyes?” “Doesn’t he run into everything?” “Look mom, that cat doesn’t have any eyes!”
These are some of the very questions and admirations I had.
So, how did we come to be such friends? In 1999 I was living alone with my cat Salud. I was going to be gone long hours while on-call and did not want to leave Salud alone at home. We needed another cat friend around the house. I remember looking through the binder for “Special Needs” animals while volunteering at an adoption for Best Friends in Salt Lake City. Somehow, you caught my attention; a cute little tabby cat- without any eyes! You were adorable!
But, then I started to wonder, would you knock down everything in my house? Would I come home to a mess all the time? Would you hurt yourself? I had no idea what to expect. Judah from Best Friends helped out. Judah knew you and confirmed what a great cat you were. Judah said that you got along well with the other cats; you would come when someone called your name, and you seemed to get around without difficulty in the cat house. Judah could not say exactly how you would do around the stuff in my house, but seemed to think you would do just fine. I could always bring you back to Best Friends if it did not work out. Well, you were so cute we just needed to give it a try….. And I am SO glad we did!
He told me some more about you. The story was that you and your litter-mates were found in a cardboard box on the side of the road. You were originally at another pet rescue, but they were not able to deal with your health problems (i.e. your eyes). It is unclear exactly what was wrong with your eyes (was it infection? trauma?) or exactly when you had them removed; but, when I first saw your photo, you had no eyes; they had been removed and the sockets sewn shut. (Later one friend would ask, “are you sure he doesn’t just have soap in his eyes?”).
At home, Salud was not so convinced, but soon the two of you became good friends. When I first brought you home, I witnessed a ritual that I would see many times again in the future. Placed in a new environment- you needed to get your bearings. The first day or two at a new location, you sniffed and checked out every corner of the house. Of particular interest, you would walk the perimeter of all the rooms and take note of all the furniture. You would even navigate the stairs- taking it slow at first, gradually reaching with your paw until you found the next step. To my surprise, you would also reach up with your paws along the furniture to find out which ones were low enough for you to jump upon. After a couple of days, you learned the “lay of the land” and would maneuver around the house like any cat with eyes! Soon you were running through the house and jumping up on to the bed without hesitation. You and Salud would have some of the wildest wrestling matches! I don’t think you had a handicap AT ALL! Eyes? Who needs eyes? Only the occasional oddly placed laundry basket would catch you off guard. And, I don’t think you ever knocked anything over or broke anything!
Boy, did we go through a lot together……. medical school, residency and new jobs…. All that came with multiple moves! And the changes of the family dynamics…… foster cats, foster kittens, and foster dogs. Then, a couple more cats became permanent members of our family. The addition of “the girls” Momma Kitty and Baby Zeta, was a whole new ballgame! But, overall, everyone did well, keeping each other company during the long nights I was away, and all of us sleeping together on the queen sized bed when I was home. One of my favorite visions of you is when you would jump up on one of the dining room chairs with your head peering just above the table. You would sit patiently as if you were a polite guest waiting to be served.
And then, more changes! The addition of my husband Lester, the unexpected loss of our beloved Salud and later Baby Zeta, along with the addition of the dogs, Chaz and Kopi. We had a few more moves and finally Lilly decided to adopt us! You always adjusted quite well. Anytime Lester was gone, you would step right up to be “man of the house”. You would snuggle next to me at night with your head on Lester’s pillow. You took the job of loving me and protecting me quite seriously.
Well, there were some challenging times. Somewhere along the way, we discovered you had colitis. When you were about 4 years old, a course of steroids caused you to develop diabetes, but thankfully, that was short lived and life seemed to get back to normal. Your health continued to do well until you were about 10 or 11 years old. Your colitis seemed to flair and the diabetes returned. We started down a very long road of medications, blood tests, insulin shots and numerous visits to the vet. Once again, you were amazing! You never fought any of the painful or unpleasant procedures, like somehow you knew we were all trying to help you. You befriended and astonished the many persons who took care of you, the pet sitters, the vet and all the wonderful staff at the vet’s office. They all seemed to become part of your family. I am grateful for all the love and care they provided.
Your world became more limited as you could no longer be allowed to roam free through the house. The bathroom became your sanctuary, but we tried to get you with us when we could; Hanging out in the backyard on summer days, snuggling on the couch to watch movies, or carrying you in a sling as we would go out for a walk. And you were always incredibly loving- snuggling, purring and rubbing against my face.
One day, it became obvious to me that things were getting too hard for you. I don’t think you would ever let me know that things were too hard, but I could tell. You had lost so much weight and now it was getting really hard for you to get around. I did not want to face it, but I knew the time had come for us to say good-bye. Why can’t cats live longer?? Why are we faced with making such decisions?? It was our last visit to the vet- you could hardly stand, much less walk, but you had the energy eat a bowl of cookies ‘n cream ice cream, lay in my arms and purr……………..
You will always be my Nodder, dodder, baby wadder! I miss you!
Marion F.
What an amazing cat you were. How many times have I told your story to astonished listeners? Young and old alike would be full of questions- “A blind cat? How does he get around?” “He really doesn’t have any eyes?” “What happened to his eyes?” “Doesn’t he run into everything?” “Look mom, that cat doesn’t have any eyes!”
These are some of the very questions and admirations I had.
So, how did we come to be such friends? In 1999 I was living alone with my cat Salud. I was going to be gone long hours while on-call and did not want to leave Salud alone at home. We needed another cat friend around the house. I remember looking through the binder for “Special Needs” animals while volunteering at an adoption for Best Friends in Salt Lake City. Somehow, you caught my attention; a cute little tabby cat- without any eyes! You were adorable!
But, then I started to wonder, would you knock down everything in my house? Would I come home to a mess all the time? Would you hurt yourself? I had no idea what to expect. Judah from Best Friends helped out. Judah knew you and confirmed what a great cat you were. Judah said that you got along well with the other cats; you would come when someone called your name, and you seemed to get around without difficulty in the cat house. Judah could not say exactly how you would do around the stuff in my house, but seemed to think you would do just fine. I could always bring you back to Best Friends if it did not work out. Well, you were so cute we just needed to give it a try….. And I am SO glad we did!
He told me some more about you. The story was that you and your litter-mates were found in a cardboard box on the side of the road. You were originally at another pet rescue, but they were not able to deal with your health problems (i.e. your eyes). It is unclear exactly what was wrong with your eyes (was it infection? trauma?) or exactly when you had them removed; but, when I first saw your photo, you had no eyes; they had been removed and the sockets sewn shut. (Later one friend would ask, “are you sure he doesn’t just have soap in his eyes?”).
At home, Salud was not so convinced, but soon the two of you became good friends. When I first brought you home, I witnessed a ritual that I would see many times again in the future. Placed in a new environment- you needed to get your bearings. The first day or two at a new location, you sniffed and checked out every corner of the house. Of particular interest, you would walk the perimeter of all the rooms and take note of all the furniture. You would even navigate the stairs- taking it slow at first, gradually reaching with your paw until you found the next step. To my surprise, you would also reach up with your paws along the furniture to find out which ones were low enough for you to jump upon. After a couple of days, you learned the “lay of the land” and would maneuver around the house like any cat with eyes! Soon you were running through the house and jumping up on to the bed without hesitation. You and Salud would have some of the wildest wrestling matches! I don’t think you had a handicap AT ALL! Eyes? Who needs eyes? Only the occasional oddly placed laundry basket would catch you off guard. And, I don’t think you ever knocked anything over or broke anything!
Boy, did we go through a lot together……. medical school, residency and new jobs…. All that came with multiple moves! And the changes of the family dynamics…… foster cats, foster kittens, and foster dogs. Then, a couple more cats became permanent members of our family. The addition of “the girls” Momma Kitty and Baby Zeta, was a whole new ballgame! But, overall, everyone did well, keeping each other company during the long nights I was away, and all of us sleeping together on the queen sized bed when I was home. One of my favorite visions of you is when you would jump up on one of the dining room chairs with your head peering just above the table. You would sit patiently as if you were a polite guest waiting to be served.
And then, more changes! The addition of my husband Lester, the unexpected loss of our beloved Salud and later Baby Zeta, along with the addition of the dogs, Chaz and Kopi. We had a few more moves and finally Lilly decided to adopt us! You always adjusted quite well. Anytime Lester was gone, you would step right up to be “man of the house”. You would snuggle next to me at night with your head on Lester’s pillow. You took the job of loving me and protecting me quite seriously.
Well, there were some challenging times. Somewhere along the way, we discovered you had colitis. When you were about 4 years old, a course of steroids caused you to develop diabetes, but thankfully, that was short lived and life seemed to get back to normal. Your health continued to do well until you were about 10 or 11 years old. Your colitis seemed to flair and the diabetes returned. We started down a very long road of medications, blood tests, insulin shots and numerous visits to the vet. Once again, you were amazing! You never fought any of the painful or unpleasant procedures, like somehow you knew we were all trying to help you. You befriended and astonished the many persons who took care of you, the pet sitters, the vet and all the wonderful staff at the vet’s office. They all seemed to become part of your family. I am grateful for all the love and care they provided.
Your world became more limited as you could no longer be allowed to roam free through the house. The bathroom became your sanctuary, but we tried to get you with us when we could; Hanging out in the backyard on summer days, snuggling on the couch to watch movies, or carrying you in a sling as we would go out for a walk. And you were always incredibly loving- snuggling, purring and rubbing against my face.
One day, it became obvious to me that things were getting too hard for you. I don’t think you would ever let me know that things were too hard, but I could tell. You had lost so much weight and now it was getting really hard for you to get around. I did not want to face it, but I knew the time had come for us to say good-bye. Why can’t cats live longer?? Why are we faced with making such decisions?? It was our last visit to the vet- you could hardly stand, much less walk, but you had the energy eat a bowl of cookies ‘n cream ice cream, lay in my arms and purr……………..
You will always be my Nodder, dodder, baby wadder! I miss you!
Marion F.
