Do cats have nine lives?
Mine has at least two.
You see, last week I watched my cat die and…come back to life.
On Sunday, we noticed Spanky wasn’t well which was both surprising…and not. His sudden “Unspankiness” caught us off guard because, except for the occasional war wound, he’s always been quite healthy. However, Spanky is also living in his “-er” years. If you know someone over 60, you’ll understand what I’m talking about.
They’re not old. They’re old-er.
Well, Spanky is 14 which is the equivalent of a 72 year old human (see chart) and places him firmly at the high end of any life span chart. But, although 72 may mean slowing down…it isn’t exactly death incarnate. Take, for example, Jack Nicholson who at 73 is looking great but has decided it’s time to stop hitting on younger women in public. Then again, there is Keith Richards who at only 67 may actually be death incarnate.
Anyways, when we noticed Spanky was having trouble eating (not one of his weak areas) we rightfully grew concerned.
Over the next 24 hours, with his strength fading at an incredibly uncomfortable rate, he began distancing himself until he eventually curled up by the washing machine…in the far reaches of our basement. Assuming he had chosen his final resting place, I wrote an emotional blog entry entitled, “Goodbye Spanky” to post first thing in the morning.
However, when I got up for my regular midnight bathroom visit, I almost tripped over…Spanky! I was freaked, yet impressed. I mean, how many dead cats do you know who can walk up three flights of stairs?
I don’t think he slept all night. He was determined to skirt death by staying awake…for ever! So, we spent the next day speaking in whispers and walking on tip-toes trying to give this poor cat a chance to “fall asleep”.
But, not only would he not die, Spanky started eating and drinking again. Eventually, I figured if he’s going to be so stubborn about this whole death thing, I might as well get him to a vet to get him ready for life #2.
Turns out, Spanky was just really sick and not lying on death’s door after all. Apparently, the symptoms of a dying cat can also be symptoms of a cat with other problems…less fatal than death. Who knew?
Since the experience was more dramatic revitalization than miraculous resurrection, Spanky is actually less Jesus and more Hulk Hogan.
In true wrestling theatre, Spanky appeared to grow weaker and weaker until, just as his paw was about to limply drop to the mat for the third and final time…his leg started shaking. Raising his once lifeless body to his feet, he body slammed my wife, cupped his ears (feigning bad hearing) and strutted victoriously, with “I Am a Real American” blaring, over to the kitchen...high-fiving my kids all the way to his food dish.
I guess, “Goodbye Spanky” will remain a draft…for now.
Have a good one,