One of Three Goodbyes in September

September was for us, a month that met with 3 losses at our house. 

The first was our our Siamese cat, Tiggy who was with us almost exactly 6 years. 

Longtime readers may recall that Tiggy was the 'bookend' to a senior Lab named Sophie whose owner went to live in an assisted living facility. Both have passed, and knowing that Tiggy is reunited with those who loved him first, brings me comfort.

Tiggy as a Siamese cat, was, to say the least, an unusual character. He ate plastic bags, and never purred. We barely saw him for the first year he was with us. And when we did see him, and we tried to pet him, it was always met with a bite and then he'd go back into hiding. He really was not a nice cat. 

But then, after about a year, Tiggy changed. We started to see him more often, and the dogs that he once avoided, he began sleeping next to. 

This change came about the time our outdoor kitty, White Boy arrived. The two could not have been more different, but they became good friends despite how different they were.  A reminder of opposites can and do attract. Whatever it was that made them friends and companions, I give White Boy all the credit for teaching Tiggy all about being a cat and being part of a family.

It was also about that same time that Tiggy started sleeping with us, every single night. I grew up with Siamese cats, and I've always known that they are generally more sensitive to the cold due to their short, fine coats that provide little insulation. During the day, especially in the winter, Tiggy would sleep on the bed under the covers. And, at night he would curl up next to us. It was in those quiet moments at night when he would sometimes let his guard down and would stretch out his paw and touch my face. However, I wouldn't move, for fear he might bite me ... Which he sometimes did... Old habits I guess...

I feel strongly, that Tiggy believed, as most cats do, that he was nothing short of royalty. He may have thought that more about himself, because he was a Siamese cat. But he lived life on his own terms. He was in his own way, a gentleman. And, being a gentleman, with no warning, he decided on his own when it was time to leave us. More than anything, I wished I could have said good-bye to him before he left -- But the butterfly sitting on the porch railing at 10:30 that night, gave me that chance.