Maine Coon, Indy, born on July 4,1993, came into our lives as a 8 week old kitten
For 14 and a half years, he lived life on HIS terms. With a temperament
as volatile as an M-80, he despised any handling, petting or cuddling, except for pats on his big head, which he often begged for by sitting up on his haunches. We respected his distaste and outright dislike of handling of any kind, which was hard for me, a person who loves hugging her furbabies at every chance. He did however, enjoy having his head petted, which he often begged for by sitting up like a meerkat, which I indulged him every time he asked. In his big green eyes, with the mascara markings, I always saw his love and affection. The only time I ever heard his soft purr was during these times, and it is this memory blazing across my mind when I think of him.
Quirky with a "Jeckle and Hyde" personality, Indy loved dropping toys
in the toilet, and sniffing his catnip pillows so deeply we thought he'd inhale them. Loved playing with his lattice balls and loved his Fancy feast canned food.
Always healthy, and never needing a vet's attentions except for annual
checkups and dental cleanings, he never looked or acted his age even after he entered his senior years.
He fell ill a week after New Years, going off his food, laying in his cave under the kitchen table, not eating, drinking, using his box or doing his other "Indy" things such as meowing at the four walls, hissing and squalling at his house mates, playing with his lattice balls.
He allowed me to stroke his back the morning of January 9 and shocked me with how thin he had become. So, off to the vet we raced. My heart shuddered when he did not battle me while putting him in the carrier. Warlocke slept beside him all night. . . another weird and scary thing.
X-rays and other tests revealed an enormous nasty malignant tumor that hogged almost his entire insides! I gaped at the x-ray in disbelief that something so huge snuck up on Indy so unnoticed. My mind and soul screamed-how could such appear so quick and deadly? No evidence of this menace appeared in his check up a mere 4 months previously.
Yet, it occurred as I hoped, for many times I wished, when Indy's time eventuality arrived, that it be quick and relatively painless, as he hated any kind of handling, which included combing, brushing and even petting of any part of his body but his head.
But I never imagined it would come so soon on the heels of Phantom's passing. Nor did I ever think he'd not live to 18,19, or even 20 years of-age . . . such was his feisty spirit.
On that afternoon on January 9, 2008, with a despairing heart, yet with Indy's preferences and temperament in mind, we decided to let him pass to the Bridge, rather than subject him to exploratory surgery and other things, which probably would not have worked, as the vet said the tumor was likely inoperable.
Any other option required the intense handling Indy so despised and resisted with all he was, and it guaranteed nothing.
Run free, Independence Jefferson, our Indybrat, Braticus, Bratboy, Psychokitty, to never feel fear or pain again. You will always be our beloved 21st Century Schizoid cat . . .
Indy, our firecracker, born on July 4, so many years ago. You lived life on your own terms, yet I never doubted you loved your Momma. who will miss you more than I could ever have known.
In Loving Memory- July 4th - Jan 9th, 2008- Charlemaines Independence Jefferson.
Indy's Momma always