bruiser_boy

We had to put my old Maine Coon cat Sputnik down this morning. It pisses me off because he wasn't in any kind of pain and seemed oblivious to his problems, even to the end. He was slowing down considearbly, had severe diabetes and a stomache condition, and my parents knew that they wouldn't be able take care of all his needs.

Sputnik was a strange cat. Inside the house he was always very aloof, only really concerned with people's attention if he was hungry or if they were eating anywhere besides the dinner table. If you were outside, however, he'd come over and sit next to you, purring. At his peak, he was over thirty pounds and not especially fat. He was an excellent mouser. He once even brought a woodchuck in.

There was always some argument as to whether he was an especially clever cat or a complete twit. He would rip weather stripping off the sides of doors and use it as a knocker to let us know he wanted in the house. Within hours of being replaced, the stripping would be torn loose again. In the days when his food was kept in the basement, if people were around he would wait at the top of the stairs instead of going down by himself. My mother always thought he was just being stupid, but I suspect that he knew if someone went down with him and he found an empty food dish, they would fill it for him.

He was like an old friend. I'm going to miss him.