Kali was found in a plastic bag along with a few other kittens 10-11 years ago.
My wife took in Kali (the others also found good homes).
As a youngin' she used to take great joy in stalking and attacking (mostly in play) the two older cats (both gone now). She would lay in wait and at the right time, jump and pounce on them. The older cats, Skittle (mother) and Gucci (daughter) put up with it for a while and even played along at times. As they got older, though, they tired of it and wouldn't play with Kali anymore.
When my son was around two, he heard me call Kali a beast, and started chasing her calling " Beastie! Beastie! " The name fit, and it stuck. Beastie was never one who liked to be picked up, hated the kitty crate and would let some people pet her until she'd had enough. You'd know she was done being petted by the quick bite you would get. As time went on, and she was the only cat, she developed quite an affinity for me. I don't know why - guess she didn't know I wasn't really a "cat person" before I met my wife. Our play was her trying to "attack" my hand, but only while she was rolling around on her back.
I made the mistake, one day, of giving Beastie a little piece of chicken a couple years ago. What a monster I created! 'Meeooooow, Meeeeeeeeeooow, MEEEEOW!" Every night she would sit next to me and meow and meow until she got a tidbit. On chicken nights (her favorite) she would paw at my leg also.
About two years ago, she became very fond of my then 5 year old son. She was his breakfast buddy - rubbing on his legs while he ate breakfast purring the whole time. If Jacob was laying on the floor, she'd come up and rub and snuggle with him and purr. Boy, what a motor that cat had, you could hear her purr from across the room! Rubbing her head would set off the purr machine and even after you stopped she would purr and purr and purr.
As big as she was, it was hard for her to jump up on anything. She loved boxes, and any time we bought anything that came in a box (of any size) we'd have to leave the box out for a few days (weeks) for her to lay in, on and around. A few months ago she managed to jump onto the couch (an amazing feat if you knew Beastie). The back of the couch became a regular nap spot for her - it was right in the sun, ya know. One night she made a bold leap from the couch to my recliner and that also was a favorite spot. Sometimes the arm rest, but mostly the footrest. She'd lay there as long as I did - and every now and then rub her head on my feet. We did get into a couple "arguments" (me talking, her hissing) about her taking up so much room and me having nowhere to put my feet. Invariably I lost those squabbles.
Beastie wasn't really a friendly cat, she wasn't mean either - although my niece (who's 16) is terrified of her. She was a part of our family (kinda like a cranky aunt) up until tonight.
Right before Thanksgiving, I noticed that she was moving kinda slow. I thought, at first, that she may have strained something jumping onto the couch. When it continued the next day, I was worried. She stayed under the bed and was quite thirsty, only coming out to drink and use the litter box. When she didn't even come out for the Turkey, I knew something was seriously wrong.
After two days at the vet we found out it was a kidney problem. We took her home, still awaiting the test to come back to see if it was simply an infection or if her kidneys were failing. She was doing better at the vet, I knew because the nurse said she was so calm the first day, but now, and I quote, "She doesn't like us very much". I thought I was getting my cranky cat back! We gave her fluids through a needle and some pills as the doctor told us. I won't go in to the "fun" I had trying to give her her pills. If she wasn't so sick, I would've taped it for a funny video show. The vet said the big thing was for her to eat. She gave us some special food that would help, especially if it was just an infection. Well, after a day of not eating we got the news. Her kidneys were indeed failing. She did perk up a bit after getting her fluids (she even purred a time or two), but she didn't eat a thing. She was in so much pain today (I still hear that awful meow), I almost wish we had taken her in yesterday.
After a dog and two other cats, you'd think that last trip to the vet would get easier, but it doesn't. I think it gets harder.
Good -bye, Beastie.
We love you.
We miss you.
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