well we've had our kats and we've had our Rotts, but there has only been ONE schweepe. I've loved each and everyone of them but schweepe is my heart kitty. This is her story and it begins in mid January of 2003.
back in the day we lived in a very rural area of Central Florida. People would often drop their "unwanteds" out where we lived - and Raggedyann developed a habit of "collecting" cats. she had a sign up outside the front door and it said "STRAYS WELCOME". When we hit 13, I made her take it down. Of the 13, SIX (6) were inside cats – the others were barn and warehouse kitties.
Beginning in 2000, we had the house in Florida and the house up here. until we retired, we'd go back and forth between them every chance we got. She had a big white Tahoe and a Rottweiler named Noah and Noah went everywhere with her - including into most of her accounts. the tag on her Tahoe read
NOAHARK - and it warranted that name - because not only did it cart Noah everywhere, it also carried Noah and his herd of 6 inside kitties between central Florida and Western NC at every possible opportunity.
After one particularly exhaustive trip, we had returned home to Florida and unloaded everybody and everything. I was sitting at the kitchen table, my back toward the front window across from Raggeyann who was looking OUT the front window. I have an
EXACT RECOLLECTION of this moment . . . we were having
"THE DISCUSSION" – the one I frequently had with her – the one about
"thinning the herd" because it was getting increasingly difficult to transport 110 lbs of Rottweiler and 6 of his kitties along with two humans back and forth between Western NC and Central Florida.
All of a sudden I heard an incredibly tiny "meow". I stopped talking, but didn't turn to look. Then came a second incredibly tiny "meow" and she said "DON'T EVEN TURN AROUND!" and I said – "I'M GOING TO TAKE CARE OF THIS RIGHT NOW" – at which point I got up, walked straight to the front door, opened it and ran out -
SHOUTING as loudly as I could and
WAVING MY ARMS in the scariest fashion I could muster. This tiny little black and white tuxedo cat – quite obviously not one to be intimidated – ran TOWARD ME and tried to get in the house through the still open front door.
I beat her to the door and quickly slammed it shut, at which point she returned to the front window sill and commenced instant replay of all prior efforts. undeterred when that ploy didn't work, she came around to the side door and began to JUMP UP, trying to look in the window. Finally Raggedyann got me to agree that we would put the cat in her warehouse for the night and in the morning she'd take her to the animal shelter -
PROMISE.
When I left the house at 5 am the next morning, I'd already began to soften. after all she was
SO CUTE and she was
SO TINY. It was 10:30 before I got a break long enough to call Raggedann – and - I had decided that one more little kitty face in the crowd would probably be OK –
BUT NO MORE DAMN IT!!! and that's how schweepe came to us.
Eventually schweepe came to be MY KAT. I guess she just sort of claimed me – particularly when I retired. She was with me whenever I was in the house. If I was reading she was on my lap. if I was on the radio she would curl up on the amp. When I was on the computer she'd be patient for a while, but then she'd walk across the keyboard.
One early December morning in 2012 I found a tiny spot of blood on the hardwood floor. later that day I noticed schweepe was chewing on the toes of her left rear foot. I looked but I couldn't find anything. A few days later there was more blood. I took her to the vet and together we agreed that perhaps it was simply an infected toe. We got some antibiotics and hoped – but the combination didn't work. we biopsied what had become an obviously involved digit on the left rear paw 2 weeks later. the path report suggested non specific sarcoma – undifferentiated - and therefore likely very fast growing. the week between Christmas and New Year we took the toe and we hoped, but within 2 months the mass had returned more proximally on the left leg, and it was obvious that this was very aggressive disease. Within 5 months the entire left rear leg was involved and I agonized over the decision to take the leg. In retrospect that act was the beginning of the end for her and I regret it to this day.
Schweepe went through the complete gambit of emotions after that surgery. At first she was puzzled; then she was angry – but ultimately she was depressed. We took the leg in May of 13, but the cancer came back by the end of July. when the lesions began to show up on her sweet little face, I had to acknowledge that schweepe was going to be leaving us. mornings previously spent reading with her were now spent rocking and brushing her. I would sit with her on the porch overlooking the pasture and rock her on my lap. I'd brush her and tell her I loved her and she'd purr at me. Sometimes I'd tell her about the meadow where it was always sunny and warm with lots to do and all the beautiful colors there.
One Saturday morning in early September I was holding her; she was on her back cradled in my forearm against my chest and I was scratching her under the chin. Raggedyann came out on the porch and said I though we'd be taking schweepe "very soon". Just as I finished that sentence I was filled with incredible sorrow - and schweepe reached up and tapped me on the cheek with her paw.
Two days later we took her for her last ride. What follows next is that day, and her return visit. because it was so overwhelmingly reassuring for me, I wrote it up so as not to loose ANY of it to a faulty memory.
After a long battle with cancer we gave schweepee back to the LORD at 3:38 PM yesterday. She meant very much to all of us here, but was especially close to me. With her in her basket, before we left the house, the last thing I did with her was to walk through her favorite rooms and stop by the places she liked to be. I told her I was taking her to the meadow – and that for sure this time she was not going to be back. During this time I was talking with her and she was purring and looking around a bit. Raggedyann had spent the morning with her, but was unable get her to purr or to be very active. I also stopped to let each of the dogs and Mr Biddles (our cat) see her and say goodbye. I told them all that schweepe wasn't coming back, and that I was taking her to the meadow.
I told her that the meadow would be warm and sunny all the time and that all our other dogs and cats would be there with her - that it would be very colorful and that there would be lots for her to do - that she’d never be lonely or hungry or thirsty again and there would never be any pain or unhappiness in the meadow. I told her she didn’t need to be afraid, but that when she saw the meadow she should run into it because she’d have her leg back. I told her several times don’t forget to RUN into the meadow when you see it.
Dr. gave her a combination of tranquilizers to snow her a bit and to ease the anxiety of being in the place that she’d been afraid of before. We were able to spend about 15 minutes with her. during that time she was there but “in between”. We told her again how much we loved her and we thanked her for being ours. We talked about our other furry kids being there – all of us now together – we here on this side, to hand her over to them over there. I reminded her that she should RUN into the meadow several times – and on several occasions her legs and paws twitched as I spoke those words to her. I do believe that she heard me - and that she was running.
When she was given the final shot I leaned over and whispered in her ear:
“RUN LIDDLE SCHWEEPS! RUN!”
- and she was gone
the schwepee-gram
Last night just as I was drifting off to sleep - when I was in that place where you’re not asleep yet but you’re not fully awake - I dreamed I was walking through the house. It was very dimly lit because all the lights were off except the light over the stove. I walked around and looked back toward the rocker I had always put schweepee on before I went to bed. She’d either sleep there, in that red basket behind the wood stove, or on her bed under the TV.
The room seemed a little different though; as I looked I noticed that the table I had made was now over next to the rocker I always put her on. There, under the table, between it and the rocker – sat a very large dark colored cat. At first I thought it was biddles but it was too big and I realized that there were no tiger markings. Suddenly, it leapt up into my arms. It was so big and heavy that it actually pulled me forward a bit. When that happened I was instantly filled with the most intense happiness I had ever felt – and - I was immediately awake. I realized that schweepee had payed a visit.
She was happy and whole and I think she was so big because of the love and gratitude that she had for us. It was her way of saying it’s OK and I’m OK; goodbye for now and thanks.
Thank you for the visit, tiny schweeps . . . and I hope you’ll come back again.
