Thoughts about Oreo, my cat I had since I was Ten years old - that passed away this past November; he was 17.
I remember the day I met Oreo like it was yesterday. I was 10 years old and I had just come home from school. My dad wasn't home yet so I had the house to myself. Having no idea that my Father had planned on getting a kitten (though I have always loved all animals - I had been asking for a dog...and a horse for years) I was quite alarmed and curious when I heard tiny squeaks coming from beyond the closed laundry room door. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I ventured into the laundry room to find the source of these funny little noises I was hearing. I was shocked with delight when I looked down to see a tiny, fluffy, fuzzy , adorable black and white kitten at my feet..meowing up a storm. Bewildered; I scooped him up in my arms and burst out the front door to see if anyone was around, I remember it was snowing lightly and falling all around us in a beautiful serene calm as if someone had just shaken a snow globe. I didn't know how or why this little kitten came to be in my home and I was nervous it was all a mistake - that maybe he somehow wandered in and would have to be taken back to wherever he came from!
Finally my Father came home and confirmed that, yes, he was meant to be our cat. He had picked him out from a litter of kittens his friend's cat had birthed. I was elated. We then decided we needed to find a name for him. He was very young and still didn't quite grasp the concept of retracting his claws - so he made a funny sticky noise as he walked across the carpet, noticing this; my Father's girlfriend suggested we name him "Velcro"... to this day we still crack up laughing about the suggestion. After many failed name attempts I came up with the oh so unique idea of naming him "Oreo" since he was mainly black with white running from his whisker pads down his chest and tummy, and on his paws. The name stuck, and he was called Oreo ever since.
Oreo brought so much joy and laughter into our home, he was a very bright kitten and as he got older - though we wanted him to be an indoor cat, he turned out to be a very sneaky escape artist and always found a way to get out into the great wide open. He never stayed out too long however and would let us know on no uncertain terms that he wanted to be let back in.
When ever we would go out and come home, we would find Oreo hanging by his claws to the top of the door to peek through the door window at us - this was one of the many cute and quirky things he would do - along with running full speed down the hallway and leaping from the chair to balance on the top of the open door that lead to the basement - he was a great jumper.
So, Oreo and I grew up together from my formative years through my teens and into my twenties, and were always very close. Though I must say he loved myself and my Father equally and made sure he divided his time between us fairly. When he was still very young, maybe just over a year...I had noticed one day that Oreo didn't seem to be himself. I tried to pick him up to comfort him - he cried. Frightened and concerned I told my Dad and we took him to the vet to find he had a UTI. It was a chronic problem for a while and we tried many diet changes. I remember the last time he had one, my Dad had spent close to 1,000 dollars in vet costs for Oreo and said he just couldn't afford to bring him again. I cried like a baby and we found a way to take Oreo to the vet and not have him stay overnight, this involved a catheter and yours truly waking up on the hour through the night to make sure everything was working properly - which I gladly did. Luckily, that was the last time he ever had that problem and we found a diet for him that worked. Life resumed it's normal pace and Oreo and I were closer than ever. Our favorite game was hide and seek - where I would hide behind a door or wall and he would sneak-up and then jump out on his hind legs as if to say "surprise!!" He would also sit at the kitchen table with us (even though he couldn't have people food) and literally tap you three times on the arm as if to ask "excuse me, may I have some?" This was a common occurrence at meal times for the rest of his life :)
As I grew up and things changed one thing remained constant - my loving Oreo. Always there, always the same. A cornerstone of the household. I moved out when I was 18 for two years and missed him terribly. But, when I moved back home we picked up our relationship right where we left off. I remember sharing special moments with him where you just knew the precious bond between you and your animal. As morbid as this sounds I always would get very sad as I realized these special moments - knowing how much I would miss them when he would not be around anymore... I just loved him so much.
When I was about 24 (and Oreo was about 14) I moved from New England to Florida to live with my then-boyfriend. But I always kept Oreo in my thoughts. A lot of people asked me why I didn't take him with me - how could I take him from the home that he'd known for 14 years, and how could I take him from my Dad who is just as attached to him as I - and also who needed the companionship of him more than I did...And Indeed they were best friends and kept each other company. My Dad would light up when he talked about him..he would jokingly call him "Yo-Yo" and tell me stories of what shenanigans our cat had been up to.
Every trip home I would make time to spend with my Oreo, realizing he was getting up in age. And I treated every time as if it was the last. In the last year Oreo developed diabetes ( I remember noticing something different with him my last trip home and telling my Dad) And my Dad faithfully gave him insulin shots and kept an ever watchful eye on him. I knew his time was limited. I call my father every Sunday - and every Sunday I asked how my Oreo was. Some days he was great, some days he wasn't. I had a trip home planned for the last week in November - for Thanksgiving and my Birthday. I remember every week for months prior - telling my Dad that I just wanted to see Oreo once more.
Well, about 5 days before my trip home I got a phone call from my Father. The first words he said were " I am so sorry Jeanine, I know you wanted to see Oreo one last time but..." and he broke the devastating news. All I could say was "No, no, no! My poor Oreo!" and my Father and I sobbed together on the phone as he told me how Oreo had looked into my Father's eyes and passed away. I cried for hours...then days... now any time I think of him...I am teary as I type this. He was a staple in my life for 17 years...One of the only things consistent and sure for almost all of my life, more than a pet, more than a friend, more than family...and now he's gone. And it seems my life will never be the same, like the end of an era...
I feel worse for my Dad, who lives alone. Oreo and him were inseparable in those last years and I know how lonely he feels now without Oreo there to greet him at every turn. When I returned home the week after his death it was like a stab in the heart - how odd the whole house felt now, how empty and lifeless...out of habit I still expected to find him in all the usual places and every time I remembered why he wasn't there another wave of sadness would wash over me.
It's amazing how these animals are so much more than pets and really touch our souls. I am thankful for all the great memories I have had with my beloved Oreo and I am forever grateful I got to have him in my life. I think about him fondly everyday and although I love my two cats Nisha and Steely Dan deeply - there is a special place in my heart for Oreo that can never be taken again. May he rest in peace. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
