I have been trying to post this but just couldn't until now:
Danté was a beautiful Ruddy Abyssinian who was rescued from the street in Encino, California in the summer of 2002. Several people had wanted him but were unable to take him due to housing issues or personal health problems. Finally he was turned over to a rescue group who contacted a friend of mine they know to be fond of Abys and who could easily find placement for him. While she fostered him she got him medical treatment, got him cleaned up and then she sought a permanent home for him. She thought he and I would be a good fit. He was so sweet and playful and I decided to adopt him after meeting him just once. His foster "mom" brought him to me a few days later and he seemed to adapt to my home almost immediately.
Abyssinians are odd creatures. Their behavior isn't quite that of a cat but lean more to that of a dog. They have big personalities, love people, crave attention and have an almost insatiable appetite for affection. They presume your guests are there to see them rather than you and will be in everyone's face to get noticed. They make terrific companions and will give you a great deal of love. My sweet Danté was everything an Aby should be with that special spin of his own personality.
A week after Danté moved in with me his foster mom came to see how he was doing. He was cordial and stayed with us for about ten minutes then he toddled off down the hallway to the bedroom. After she left I found him under the bed - a place he had never been - but he simply wasn't going to let her take him away. Another week passed and he was now sleeping on his back with his belly exposed along side me while I watched TV, read or talked on the phone. It didn't matter what I did or how much noise I made. He just wanted to be with me. Safe from the world and sound asleep.
Danté was FIV positive so I knew that he would always be in danger if he got any kind of infection. I tried to protect him from contact with other cats so that he'd have less for his compromised immune system to combat. I knew I'd be saying good-bye to him a lot sooner than I ever wanted but I thought we had a least a few more years together. At the time I adopted him the vet estimated his age to be between six and seven years old which makes him about ten now.
He had his own isolated second-floor balcony that he treated as though it was an extension of the house - sometimes I'd hear him snoring out there curled up on his lawn chair. He died on Friday morning, May 20. The evening of Wednesday May 18 I had the sliding door open and the screen door too as he liked to run in and out crashing through the vertical blinds rather than use his cat door. This evening he had been sitting with me while I watched TV but decided to go out. Almost the instant he got onto the balcony a cat fight broke out. I rushed out to see him tangled up with a cat I had never seen before. And the balcony is 14 feet (4.3 meters) up with no obvious way to climb up to it. When I broke up the fight the strange cat jumped off the balcony and Danté ran to the bedroom. He had no visible injuries but was very upset. He regained his composure in about a half an hour and stayed close to me for another couple of hours before bedtime.
In the morning he was OK but was very cautious about going out onto the balcony. By the time I got home he was very listless and could barely keep his eyes open so I took him to the vet that evening. He had evidently had a heart attack during the day. He stayed the night at the veterinary hospital and was on oxygen and IV fluids. The next morning, Friday, when they took him off of oxygen to x-ray him he developed breathing problems so they put him back on oxygen. A few minutes later his heart failed and he died. The post mortem examination of the x-rays showed that he was in the early stages of pancreatic cancer so his heart was already under stress and the cat attack pushed him too far into the danger zone.
I got the call from the vet at about 8:30 Friday morning telling me Danté had just died. She asked if I wanted to see him to which I said yes. I got myself collected and went there knowing my heart was going to be broken. I was escorted to a small, softly lighted room with a couch and chair and in a few minutes an attendant brought him in wrapped in a pink flannel blanket and laid him down next to me on the couch. I stroked his soft fur for a while, kissed him on the cheek several times, told him I loved him and then tucked the blanket around him and said good-bye. I asked the attendant if they had any referrals for cremation services - I couldn't just leave him behind - and she gave me some choices. It was all handled with great kindness and empathy.
I miss him terribly. When I awoke in the morning I always looked to see where he was on the bed before I moved. Sometimes he was sound asleep snuggled up next to me and other times he was catloafed at the foot of the bed waiting for me to awaken so we could cuddle and scratch for a little while before breakfast. I'd put my ear against him to listen to him purr. I still look for him when I awaken each day.
Up until a few days before he died it was normal for him to be racing around the house playing with his toy mouse. I loved to watch him play but if he saw me he'd stop and wait for me to play with him. At times he had an odd little way of asking for attention: While purring softly he would sit in front of me on the table, reach up with a paw and touch my lips, put his paw down and press the top of his head against my lips to get kissed. He'd then repeat the whole thing again and again. I'd let him go through the cycle a few more times before I put my arms around him to snuggle and kiss him - which is really what he wanted. That brought on a deeper, rumbling purr as he pushed his face against mine. He was also a goofy little guy who made me laugh almost every day.
He was a true Aby who charmed our neighbors and then invited himself into their homes. First he would go visiting them with me; later he wanted to go over on his own. Sometimes he would be "visiting" for four or five hours snacking, snoozing and socializing with them. I was quite proud of his social skills. He was a happy, well adjusted and confident kitty but, no matter what, he was my kitty and he made sure I knew it.
I am quite honored that he chose to love me and bond to me and I could not have loved him more.
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