When we first found him one of his eyes was sticking about an inch out of its socket. It wasn't a pretty sight. His eye couldn't be saved, and the other went blind because of an infection. We took him inside because he was blind and sick. Those first weeks were something new. We sat him by his litter box and food bowl, that used to be right outside my room. He would walk with his shoulder pressed against the wall and move around the house. If he moved to far away from a wall and got lost he'd sit down and start meowing, then we'd put him by his little station again to start over. He learned the entire house this way. One of my aunts didn't even believe he was blind he got around so well.
When he was young he was still a wild cat. He bit me very roughly once, enough that it left a scar. I probably deserved it. Little kids are never very good with animals. I needed him so much when I was little though. I hated my family. I was abused, and very suicidal. He always ended up stopping me.
One of the reasons I believe in God is because of my kitty. He showed up when I needed him most. My dad was allergic to cats and I needed one to be with me all the time. I had no one else I trusted but my cats. How else would I have gotten a cat inside unless he was blinded? We never knew exactly how he ended up blinded, what happened to him exactly. He came in and at every now and then, when I was at my worst, he would do something completely unlike him. I can clearly remember waking up from a dream crying and he was sitting on the edge of my bed. I don't know why he happened to be there that night. He never slept with me. But he just happened to be there.
Once I was left home alone so I went and got a butcher knife out of the kitchen. I was very much thinking about ending everything right there. I held it up to my chest and was taking a deep breath, and he walked by my room. I started thinking twice. They were completely ridiculous thoughts in a way, but it stopped me.
He was a funny cat too. When he was younger he sat on window sills a lot, just looking out at the world. I walked out into the backyard one time and he was sitting on my brother's window (which isn't far from the back door). Apparently the screen couldn't handle his weight. It popped off the window and he fell outside, looking completely dazed and confused. Luckily I had just walked out there and was able to pick him up before anything happened to him. We had a lot more cats back then, and the cats didn't like him. It was probably a pecking order type of thing.
He knew he wasn't allowed in my parent's room, but every now and then he tried to sneak in anyway. He didn't realize my dad was sleeping on the bed once, and he jumped up on top of him. My dad woke up screaming, and then the cat shrieked, and then he darted out of the room like there was no tomorrow. He didn't try to sneak back into there room much after that.
When he became sick he started sitting on our laps a lot more. It almost felt like he was going for a world record. He would sit and watch Excel Saga with me (he seemed to like the things I liked. I suppose he grew up with me, so it was an acquired taste for him). We watched a few episodes one time then I turned it off so I could go take a shower. I picked him up and was going to put him on the other chair, but when I tried to stand my legs didn't respond at all! He'd been sitting on me so long that both my legs had gone completely asleep and I hadn't even noticed. I toppled over on my back, still holding him, and tried again to get up. He probably thought I was on drugs or something. I finally got him to the other chair, and managed to walk across the house despite barely being able to feel my legs. I'm just happy that everyone had left the room before that happened.
Everyday things were nice too. Whenever I saw him I'd act surprised, as if I'd just found a long lost treasure. Quite often walking in my room and seeing him on my bed would bring out a "*GASP* Aren't you the cutest kitty ever?!" He probably didn't even know his own name. I always called him "Baby Kitty", mom called him "Little Dude", my brother called him "Fatso"... For some reason I always told him "We love you". After awhile it was strange to say "I love you" to him, it was always "we". I'm not quite sure why. When he got sick I kept this up. He didn't understand what we were saying, all he cared about were the vocalics. I couldn't say "Aren't you the cutest kitty ever?" and sound bored. He was covered in blood and mud, his face was swollen and he was constantly drooling, but up until the moment he died I'm sure he thought he was the most adorable kitty in the universe.
I miss him a lot. I'm sure I'll always miss him. He was a huge part of my life, and one of the reasons I hate it so much when people say that cats aren't loyal, or that pets don't have feelings. He came from nowhere when I needed him most. Now that I'm older and I have to move on with my life, he's left again. Animals make sacrifices greater than humans all the time. I believe they are here for us. We're meant to eat animals, and so it isn't wrong to kill for food. Animals teach children a type of responsibility and compassion that can't be taught in a classroom, and I believe the way a person treats their animals says a lot about them.
The animal clinic sent us a nice card awhile after our kitty died. They were very understanding throughout the entire thing. My mom told me my aunt had said that when she took one of her cats to be put to sleep they hadn't sent her a card. The first thing I asked was if she really cared about the cat, and my mom answered "Probably not". I see how my cousins treat their pets and I know they don't care a whole lot. Often they'll have a pet one day and we'll never see it again. It's better that way really. I've had to save their own pets from them before. They fool around like little children despite being teenagers, and tried to feed one of their little puppies chocolate chips cookies. Pretty much poison for a dog. I had to go and take all the cookies from them. I think that's the only time I ever saw that puppy.
It saddens me a lot to think of how many people probably treat their pets like that. My kitty meant a lot to me. If someone had hurt him I'd much sooner throw them out of my house than him. He was blind and needed us, if we had given him up for adoption it's quite likely he would have died 11 years ago by being put to sleep. Not many people like to take care of older, handicapped cats, ne? But he was the best cat I'd ever had and I would have never left him to fend for himself. Yes, it could be a pain to take care of him. He was picky with his food, had a bad stomach and it wasn't uncommon for him to throw up, and he didn't always know what was best for him. I certainly didn't care for the sweet smell of cat puke in the morning. But he was worth it. It was nice to have him there. He was like having a small child around. Troublesome but entirely worth it in the end.
It's annoying to see other people take advantage of their pets. Every time I did something with him in mind and realized I didn't have to do it anymore, I'd always think "But I'd rather do it and have him here than not have to do it and not have him".
Going to my cousin's house and seeing how they've treated their animals as they've grown and how they've ended up in life thus far, it makes me feel like there's a connection. They've made a lot of irresponsible choices, and spend a lot of time trying to fit in or be the center of attention. The older girl is depending on her band to make it. She's doing horrible in school, and she can't become a dancer like she planned anymore because she's already hurt her back. The younger is also doing horrible in school and doesn't seem to have very good influences. They aren't evil people. They're just doing about as well as their pets are. They couldn't be responsible with their pets and now they can't be responsible with their own lives.
I know I've ranted a lot about this. Kitty meant a lot to me. Cats have always been a large part of my life. In the future I hope to adopt another blind cat. Not because I think it'll replace him, nothing could ever replace him. But I know if we hadn't decided to keep Whiskers before he probably would have been put to sleep. I've lived my entire life caring for a blind cat. I'm used to it. And I feel like I should keep using my experience to take care of other blind cats. Their handicap wouldn't be anything new to me, and I wouldn't mind having kittens around the house again. The person I'm in love with is allergic to cats just like my dad is though, so I suppose we'll see in the future.