Thursday, November 1, 2012

Gizmo 10/31/02-11/1/12

Almost 10 years ago I went with my sister and my dad to the pound a couple of weeks before Christmas to get a cat. We didn't go in looking for any kind in particular. I was adamant we go to the pound, since they were a kill shelter, and we'd be doing our part to save a furry life. 

We never expected that day to find the sexiest cat that ever lived. We didn't expect it, but there he was. About 6 weeks old, furry, flat faced, and fat. The three of us took one look at him and he looked back at us with his indifferent, slightly sarcastic eyes, and he allowed us to choose him. 


Never have I encountered a cat like him, and I don't expect to ever again. He passed away this morning, he turned 10 years old yesterday. We're not 100% sure what happened. His illness seemed to come on suddenly. It was either severe anemia (what I'm leaning towards) or an aggressive form of cancer that had a sudden onset. The vet said we could send him away to Cary, NC to the hospital there to be treated, but he didn't expect him to survive the night- and he didn't. So, it's good that we chose to take him home and make him comfortable.

Gizmo was way to cool to have his last moments alone in a cage without family in a strange city and place. 

I'm broken-hearted over his passing. We had a lot of fun with Gizmo. I used to put him in a silver glittered harness and take him with me to the town commons to listen to the different bands that would play during the summer- until his harness got a little too snug. He loved to be brushed. He loved sweet tea. He had a red satin dress that he was too fat for, and busted the seams- then it looked like he had been legitimately raped- we called it his party dress. He was secure enough with his sexuality to be cool with this. Gizzie also had a neck-tie for special occasions. On occasion, he'd put on a batman mask and cape and turn into Bat-Cat. 

What I'm saying is, there will never be another Gizmo. Nor should there be. 

Sometimes, you just need some pizza.

He didn't like a bath, but he understood it helped keep him sexy.

He loved baskets, no matter how small it may be.


  1. He was definately handsome! He is really rocking in these last two pictures! :-) And I feel the SAME way after I demolish pizza! I am sorry for the lost of your dear loved one Gizmo! Continue to let his memories bring comfort and smiles. -db

  2. That is the sweetest thing i have ever read. RIP Sexy Gizmo!

  3. oh god he's so cute! So sorry to hear about your Gizmo. Loving pets is so hard because you do it knowing full well that you will have to say goodbye way too soon.

    1. That's true. While I was in the middle of a sob-fest last night I looked around at my puggy and 3 kitties and I asked my husband while we even bother to have pets. They just end up destroying you and breaking your heart.

      It's worth it though. Absolutely, without a doubt, worth it.

    2. Okay... i'm going to link you to a poem, and I am absolutely NOT trying to make you cry more, but someone gave it to me when one of our family dogs died and it meant so much to me. And two years ago I read it at my brother's funeral... and, well, it just means a lot to me because it's about acknowledging that something's presence in your life is fleeting and loving/appreciating it more because of that. So... yeah. I'm going to go cry in a bathroom stall now. Just kidding... i'll just do it at my desk like always :) (Also turn your speakers down because the sappy music on this website would make Chuck Norris weep)

    3. Oh hell, what's a few more tears at my desk to go along with all the others that have come and gone today?
      Everyone assumes it's my hormones anyways, not many of my coworkers understand how pets are like family.

      That's a beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing it with me. I'll definitely be holding on to that for the future. I'll actually go ahead and send it to my mom and sister so they can cry some more too.

      I am sorry that I managed to bring you down today too. :(

    4. You didn't at all! I was 94% joking. The remaining 6% is the truth because I can cry at the drop of a hat when it comes to music/poems/tv shows/etc. I am the picture of stoicism when it comes to my own personal sad stuff. I am Mr. Darcy at all times. :)

    5. Ohh I wish I could be Mr. Darcy, he was the sexiest of men. I, unfortunately, am more like Maryanne's Willoughby- full of the emotions and making myself and those near me insane with it- although I like to think I'm much less of a cad.

      Oh yeah I'll cry over commercials and poems, I'll also sob during the news, and my own person issues- I'll totally freak out about but only let the hubby witness it. So he's really the only one that knows just how Willoughby-esque I am.

      How lame to compare yourself to Willoughby. Boo.

  4. I'm sorry to hear this, but at least he's in a better place. I know people always say that, but I really do believe it. I lost a cat like this a couple years ago, very suddenly, and it was one of the hardest losses I've ever had. He was my parents' cat technically, but I had grown up with him. He was really tall (the size of a medium sized dog) and cow-colored. He loved to hang out outside, and when we opened the door for him to come in, he'd thank us by rubbing on our legs and then running downstairs to his 'room.'

    I lost him right before I met my wife.

    Interestingly enough, about 3 months later I brought my wife over to my parents' house to meet them for the first time. She opened the screen door to walk inside, and she jumped in terror. She said, "God, your parents' cat scared the crap out of me!"

    I asked her what she was talking about. She said the big cow cat, it scared me, because it rubbed on my leg and then ran downstairs.

    Still gives me chills to think about it.

  5. Hi! This is a weird post to put this one buuuut... is the baby here?! I realize just because you haven't blogged doesn't necessarily mean Noelle has arrived, but I thought I would check in and see how you are doing :)


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