It’s been a terribly bittersweet weekend followed by a week of healing.
Our beloved cat Twitter [Twitty] passed away late Thursday night / early Friday morning. We did everything we could to save him, but… like Georgi-Boy before him, he’s gone.
We’re in total shock. Twitter was a happy, healthy 6.5 year old. He’s been with us through some really rough times. I’ll never forget this cat…
I first met Twitter in July 2010. We had walked into Petco for cat litter — our Petco location had a ‘cat house’ where local humane societies would put adoptable cats on display daily, often coming in to set up a play pen for them to show off for customers. I always take a few moments to say hello to these homeless cats and talk to their handlers. But that night was different. Thee was a kitten with striking markings. He was right around a month old and already tall, lanky, and didn’t quite know what to do with his four left paws. His ears were bigger than most of the rest of him! He had a goofy joker grin across half his face, a black heart-shaped spot on his chest. I asked after his name and was told it was Twitter. No, they didn’t know any special reason for the name other than perhaps being named for a social network.
He came over, I knelt down to scratch him through the play pen. He showed vague interest before being distracted by Drew’s shoelaces and making wild attempts to play with them, flipping over to take them in his polished ivory teeth. I felt an instant connection with this oddball… As we went in search of our litter, I heard someone say, “Could we get Twitter? Please?” I looked around briefly for some child… I wanted to see this brat that would take Twitter home; to look in their eyes and insure they dare not pull his tail or tease him cruelly. Then I realized… the child… was ME.
On the way home, Twitter talked our ears off… Drew teased me about my driving, then got Twitter to confirm with an obnoxiously loud, ‘WOW!!’ At home, our two cats weren’t entirely thrilled to see him, but soon decided he was okay.
Twitter had an affinity for showing off for any sitter, or even for Drew and I. Drew once spun him dizzy with a laser pointer, only to burst out laughing when Twitty became a living bobble head. We were introducing the cats to a sitter when it happened — the sitter was far from enthused by anyone’s antics, didn’t laugh along with us, which had us laughing even harder. One afternoon, Drew arrived home to find Twitter at the top of the cat tree, laying on one side, RUNNING. He was laying down on his side and using his claws to hold him fast to the center post as he ran in circles while laying down… You know, horizontal running…
The truly amazing thing about this feat was that for half of each roundabout, Twitty was laying on nothing but open air. Our cat tree had 4 tiers staggered left and right. A chair sat beneath it.
“Twitter, what are you doing?” I heard Drew ask. I looked up from dishes just in time to see my baby mis-step. He crashed to the second highest tier. I was about to scream when he righted himself, flopped over, and crashed into the third. In humored shock, I watched as he tried to right himself again, flipped over again, slid down the back of the chair and landed, draping himself over the chair arm. Just as I was asking if he was alright, a panic-stricken look crossed his face. With great fanfare, he rolled, like a pudding, off the chair arm, landing safely on the floor…
Yes, this cat has kept us in many a stitch. When we stayed in Georgia for awhile, he lived as a part-time outdoor cat. Was even bitten by a snake once and survived. He cared for our other cat when he got in a fight with a neighborhood cat over their sister, whom the other cat was bonded with. While Haru was healing, Twitter taught Ryo to hunt mice — then sauntered off, leaving her to play with it and make her own kill if she chose.
When Georgi, our muscled boxer mix entered the picture, Twitter pretended to hate him, but was the very first to cuddle up and sleep with him. And when Georgi passed, Twitter followed me all over our house, often climbing on my shoulders to comfort me.
Twitter and Gingy also had a special relationship. Sure, he’s put Gingy in his place quite a few times. But he also played with Gingy. His presence is sorely missed…
Here’s to a make-up brush thief. A pet sibling. A Joker of Hearts. Here’s to his purring and to the pillow I no longer have to fight for at night. Here’s to finally being able to breathe when I sleep — and missing 20 pounds of fluff in my face as I slept. Here’s to being told “No” anytime I began a conversation. Here’s to missing the chatter anytime birds were about.
Twitter. We love you. More than you loved cheese.