The insignificant, day-to-day routines that are suddenly pointless: Leaving windows shut or just cracked, so he can't push against the wobbly rental-house screens and fall. Latching the screen door so he can't push it open. Keeping the bread in the pantry instead of on the counter, because he likes to bite into the loaf. Closing the toilet lid so he can't knock anything into the toilet, forcing our landlord to call a plumber (who then has to completely detach and reattach the entire commode just to pull a decorative candle out of the poopy piping).
Picking toys out of his food dish because he fetches them and "keeps" them there.
Sweeping up cat food that makes its way all over the room because he likes to carry it in his mouth to a clean spot on the floor to eat.
Matt and I have both always been animal lovers. We had been dating for six months when, for our first Christmas, he surprised me with a tiny Siamese kitten. We named him after Fela Kuti and loved the shit out of him for nine years. He was a very unique cat. He could fetch. He slept in my hair, purring all night and mashing his forehead into it. He was ridiculously smart and invented games. He liked to be tossed onto the bed, then he would tear through the house and wait, crouched down and purring, for you to pick him up and toss him on the bed again. Matt would walk up behind him and nudge the back of Fela's feet with his toes - Fela would step onto Matt's feet with his back feet and they would walk around that way - Fela would purr the whole time and continuously rub his cheeks on everything they passed.
He could open doors and walked in on many of our guests when we had bathroom doorknobs that were slightly slippery (or lever knobs). He once locked Matt's dad out of the house while they were catsitting him in Dallas...on the same trip, he set off the burglar alarm while locked in a single bedroom with his food and litter and water.
He loved Matt and I so much. He often stayed with friends or our families while Matt and I were gone on extended trips: three months in Asia, three months in Central America and Europe, three more months in Asia...he was adaptable, but he always missed us and he wouldn't play his games with other people. He was polite enough when people came over (always smelling their mouths) but he would start to get really annoyed the longer they stayed, and was always so happy to have the two of us to himself.
He became so sick. We realized that he hadn't been himself for about a year. He got better with medications in December, but took a downturn the week before Leo's birth. He wouldn't eat and was so emaciated. He slipped when he would jump up or down on the couch. The vet tried over and over to adjust his meds but nothing worked. We did not want to do exploratory surgery or biopsies...just too invasive, and the recovery would be awful. He deserved more than that.
On the day he died he refused ice cream and vanilla yogurt - his two favorite and off-limits foods. He purred once in the morning when I snuggled up to him, and then did not purr for either of us all day.
We took him to his kind and caring vet. She wrapped in a blanket and let us hold him. He pushed his face into Matt's hands and we held him and told him how much we loved him.
This might be the last time I'll write about him in detail. If you have never had a cat that was amazing, you may think I'm crazy. He made Matt and I a family when we were just college kids who fell in love. We cared for him together. He was so special, goofy, sweet, cuddly, and we will miss him forever. I'm so thankful for nine great years. Thanks for reading this. Now I will go and hug my Leo very tight and tell him all about goofy, sweet Fela and how much I wish they could play together.
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