In Loving Memory Of Squidgey-Bo, Our Beloved Cat, A Great Friend.
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I Did Not Die. Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow; I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain; I am the gentle Autumn's rain. When you awaken in the Morning's hush, I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there; I did not die. -Anon |
March-1998
It's not easy losing a pet. The pain and emotions felt cannot be written down. Here are some personal words trying to express the love we had for Squidge. Although I feel it falls short of the true cat that Squidge was. He'll be eternally missed.
So you cat scratches the carpet? Trivial!
Claws the furniture? Trivial!
Climbs the curtains? Trivial!
Make the most of life while you can, it won't be forever.
SQUIDGE Sun Rise;
15th June 1994
Sun Set;
18 March 1998
Born;
To mother Boo.
Full Name;
Squidgey-Bo
Nicknames;
Squidge, Squidgey, Squidgles,
Life;
Too short. For us exceptionally happy.
Death;
Too Sudden. For us so painful.
Your memory lives on, within our hearts, within our minds
for eternity. May you have found yourself true happiness
mate. We'll always love you, cherishing the love and memories
that we still have for you.
Squidge.
So sad; You died so young.
So sad; You died so sudden.
So sad; Your life was short.
So sad; The pain, the hurt.
So sad;
So glad; You were so much fun.
So glad; Your memories live on.
So glad; You brightened our days;
So glad; In ifinite ways.
So glad;
Each cat to the cat owner is unique. We can see the individual personality shine through. Squidge was no exception. He was a very vocal cat and would often commuincate with his double-barelled 'miao-miaow' A sound that can only be heard to be truly appreciated. Playtime. When he wanted to play, he'd let us know by bringing us a 'Squidgey-Ball' or a cork to play with; When ever we'd open a bottle of wine Squidge would be there staring at the cork ready to chase after it when we'd throw it for him. He taught us to play with him. When he was ready for play he'd go and find a cork or ball and bring it to us, dropping it in front of us.
'Miao-miaow' He'd say, as if telling us 'play time'
We never taught him to fetch and carry, but over the months of kittenhood, and with many struggles by him, he'd start bringing his toys back to us and begged us to throw them for him so he could chase them round the room. And boy how he'd chase them. This little guy would go ballistic, the other cats never had a chance of taking the ball from him, he was just too fast and agile for them.
--
You get right through to my soul with just the little things.
--
Outside was the same. He loved to play with his toys, whether with us or not. We'd often watch from the house, as he chased a ball around the garden. Picking it up in his mouth, dropping it at his feet, watching it roll away, then he'd pounce. And off he'd go again. And of course there was Pointy. Best mates the pair of them. They thrived for a bit of rough and tumble. Always playing together roughly. Fur would often fly, but they loved every moment together. Often Pointy would come in the room, have a quick look around before darting back outside. Five minutes later he'd bring Squidge in and the two would play. Squidge would do the same. They were inseperable. The other two cats, Boo (Squidge's mother) and Mischief would look on bemused.
Sitting on top of a cupboard we'd throw balls up to him, he'd hit them back to us with his paw. He was playing cat tennis! Even trying to catch him out by throwing the ball at an angle, he'd still get it returned to us. Often he'd have us chasing after the ball, expelling more energy than he did. He'd sit and watch, waiting patiently for the ball to return to him.
Cats can be very intelligent animals, but they also had their 'dumb' streaks. Often, when playing ball outside, Squidge would just sit and watch as we'd throw the ball towards him. Often these balls would hit him on the nose. Why he'd just sit there and let the ball hit him, we never knew, but that was our Squidge. Nothing more than a grown up kitten who lived life for playing and fun. There was only one Squidge, there is only one Squidge, there will only ever be one Squidge. He was a proud cat, he was a wonderful cat, he was our cat. Our Friend.
--
Those days are all gone now but one thing's still true.
When I look and I find, I still love you.
--
--
I've always known a household with cats. I was brought up with them as a child and I can never recall a time when there weren't any cats around. So through my life so far I've seen many cats come and go and their passing has always saddened me, but sadness due to a death has never hurt me in the way it did when Squidge died.
At just three years and nine months, he was suddenly taken from us due to illness; Pleurisy. For a while he'd been behaving 'depressed', wasn't his usually bubbly self, but he'd still play, purr and seemed to be eating well. The Saturday before his death he was outside playing as usual. Tail in the air, ball firmly lodged in his mouth as he'd bring it back to us. Purring, chirping. He was his usual self once more.
By Tuesday he'd changed incredibly for the worst.
We kept him in that night, the poor thing just stayed under the bed, occasionally coughing. Up until now he'd been quiet, but then he started to cough. This seemed to be a bad sign. A trip to the Vet's was in order.
--
Don't dwell on the sadness of the past, be happy for the life of fun and laughter he graced us with.
--
From here on in he went rapidly downhill. Mid morning, picking him up to go to the Vet's, his breathing was rapid, almost as if he had to force himself to breath. This seemed to be a worry for the Vet who instructed to take him to the Pet Hospital. Here we handed Squidge across, saying a brief goodbye before he was whisked off for the desperate attention needed. We were not to know that this would be the last time we'd ever see him alive.......
--
Living with painful memories, loving with all my heart.
--
When the phone rang that afternoon, earlier than expected, I knew the news wasn't going to be good. I wasn't wrong. He'd died early afternoon. A part of my life gone. I didn't want to believe what I'd just heard. Surely it was a mistake? Squidge couldn't die. He was clever, loyal, fun. A youngster. A disasterous mistake, that's what it was. The vet would apologise and we'd have a fit and active Squidge to take home.
--
Life is for now. Death is for ever. But memories won't fade.
--
The wait at the Pets' Hospital was agonising, but eventually we were shuffled into a room and the Vet explained that he'd died due to fluid on his lungs. At this point it wasn't apparent what had caused the fluid build up. The possibility of having been kicked or hit by a car were likely causes. Hard to swallow, hard to accept. We needed to know what killed him, for peace of mind, to calm the anger and hate that was within. We asked for a Post Mortem, The Vet willingly obliged, almost as if she needed to know the truth as well. His body was brought in and we were left alone to comfort ourselves, tears running down our faces. The awful truth had finally dawned. Squidge was dead....
--
We take life for granted. We take loved ones for granted.
Make the most from every moment you get with them.
--
Leaving without his body wasn't easy, but we had to know why he died. We got home, composed our thoughts and waited for the phone call.
--
You made us so very happy, you gave us kisses.
--
The results were quickly phoned through. The fluid on his lungs had been brought on by the condition Pleurisy. It was a relief, in many respects. The hate and anger from within began to subside. No one was to blame, just bad luck and misfortune. His body was brought home and silently buried in the garden. He was finally home to stay........
May you have eternal peace and happiness Squidge, our friend.
Andrea recalls;
I never had cats, in fact I didn't have a pet until my parents got a dog when I was 11. Then I met Gav who had always had cats, and slowly those cute little faces grew on me.
When I got my own home, the first thing I wanted was a cat. Just one, that was all I wanted. Somehow, over the years, we ended up with four! All beautiful, loving and individual. Mischief, Boo, Squidge and Pointy
Mischief and Boo were always cuddling together, Squidge and Pointy always playing.
Until the 18 March 1998..... L
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.......on that day our wonderful Squidgey died.
I have never known such pain.
It was so sudden. It was so unexpected. He was ill, but we only knew how ill after he had died. He had an illness that could only have been detected after he had gone.
He was all black, with lovely green eyes. He was so affectionate. One of his favourite times was being with us in the bathroom. He'd sit on the edge of the bath while we were soaking away, and often he'd nudge his head on our faces, like a little kiss.
He would circle beneath us, and, purring away, would rise up on his back legs to rub his head on a waiting hand, or a waiting chin.
As sad as his death has been, we can only think of the wonderful happiness he brought into our lives. He used to play with corks. In fact, if we threw a cork he bought it back to us! Yep, a cat that played fetch! And it wasn't only corks. He'd play with little plastic balls. Squidgey balls as we began to call them. Yeah, his name will always live on in that small thing.
And his mieow. It wasn't what most would consider an ordinary one. I remember listening to it one day, I was sure he said 'mieow-mieow, but I couldn't be certain. But as he grew, we realised that he did say that, and it was so unique. A sound we will miss forever.
So Squidge, we hope you know just how much we love you, and that we always will hold you so dear to us. Our Special "all black" cat......
--
The days were endless, you were crazy, you were young.
The sun was always shining, you just lived for fun........
--
07-October-1998
It has been over six months now, since Squidge died. Although we've come to terms with our loss, his death; life at home has never been the same. In fact it never will be. Many have commented as to why we'd want a webpage dedicated to Squidge? Why do we have a photo frame on the wall full of his pictures? Why can't we let go?
It's our way of coping, besides we don't wish to deny to ourselves the love and happiness that this little furrball gave to us. This page is a constant reminder to us of his life; a life that was priceless. No amounts of materialist things, be them cars, money, holidays, etc, would ever compensate for the memories that we still have of Squidge. Memories that we'll always have of him, no matter what happens. Be they ones of sadness; His final trip to the Vets, where we last saw him alive, hearing a song on the radio, the same song that played that horrific day. Or be they ones of happiness; His tricks with corks, the way he'd drop a ball at my feet for playtime. His cry, his pur, his headbutting.
With this in mind he'll never die. At least not where it matters; In our hearts and minds. There are so many constant reminders of Squidge's life that I see and feel on a daily basis that I'm proud of him. Yeah, proud of an animal, proud of a cat! What's wrong with that?
So what's the point of this little addition? To be honest I don't really know. I guess death is something that we'll all face, in one way or another, in our lives. It's not all doom and gloom, believe me! Life goes on. Just keep those warm and fond memories close to you, do not deny them to yourself.
Where is Squidge now? Here?
Some words of support from friends.
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