When Spud died in August 2007, I wrote a long blog on MySpace.... Wednesday, August 29, 2007

"Spud the Bad Ass Cat"

Current mood: depressed

Category: Pets and Animals

This morning Spud wasn't at the door. I checked again a while later, even went back to sleep for a while, still no Spud wanting in. After scouring our yards and bushes, Dean found him dead on the lawn across the street. His leg was broken badly. Not sure exactly if that, or what, killed him. He'd been sick for so so long. He must have been hit by a car. that's all we can assume. He may be been moved up onto the lawn by a passerby. we just dont know. He didn't lay there very long, which was good, because it was a super hot day today.

He certainly used up all of his lives. Many years ago, he was missing for a few days, and came home poisoned, I nursed him back to health. For the last 5 years or so, he had some "serious" disease that caused his mouth to hurt so bad that he couldnt eat. We put him on steriods, and that bought him many many more years.

Lately he had a respritory infection, sneezing and coughing and a little goopy eyed... he'd been lethargic, still eating, but spending his days sleeping on porches. Seems that every day I thanked God for another day with Spud. Every day we expected to find him dead. Every time he didnt come in right away, oh no, he's dead. Every time we got a phone call during vacation, oh no, spuds dead. Even this morning, before we found him, "can't find spud, he must be dead"...

After my recent surgery, and after being home for a few days, I was sad that the cats weren't sleeping on the bed with me. Dean had a talk with the boys, and Spud spent a full night on the bed with me just a few nights ago. I'm really glad for that. That said, it still hurts alot to lose him. He really was a tough cat. He didn't take any shit from other cats, and certainly not from dogs. Once he scared a dog so badly that the dog pissed all over the driveway.

I got spud from a family in front of walmart, in early 1994. Spud was the only cat they were giving away, and he was kinda large for a new kitten. The family said that they originally had planned on keeping him, but later decided that they couldnt have another cat, or something, so he was already about 8 or 10 weeks old. When Dean and I started dating, Dean asked "what is your kittens name" I hadn't named him so I was still calling him 'baby kitty" ... haha... Dean said that was silly, and said "how about Spud?"... I said sure, not only to finally give my cat a name but also to impress my new boyfriend.

Spud was always a big boy, and I often called him that. He was taller than other cats, and weighed over 17 pounds during this prime. Even as he got older, he was still tall and impressive. He had lots of admirers. He loved his Grandma Julia.

Spud was a good boy, except when he was a bad boy. It was my fault that he retained tom-cat behaviors, because I didn't get him fixed early enough. My apologies to everyone whose belongings caught the wrong end of Spud's flickering tail. I'd say that he's sorry too - but no - Spud was not sorry about pissing on your stuff. He was a tough, proud cat, but never too proud to get scratches on his head. He never let me sit on the couch alone. He loved to sleep on our chests. He slept next to me on the couch every day during my chemotherapy. I'm really going to miss my couch buddy.