I got George and Gracie when they were kittens, in 2000. My roommate and I were planning on getting kittens shortly after we moved in together. Then I broke my ankle and my boyfriend took me to the animal shelter to cheer me up. I took George and Gracie home that day, in kind of a jerky move since my roommate and I had planned on getting the cats together. We also had planned on splitting the kitties up when we eventually parted ways. I don't remember how we ended up deciding not to. It probably had something to do with me being obsessed with them. And me being a jerk and picking them out without her. (I'm sorry Katie!)
George and Gracie were with me through most of college. In the time since I got them, I graduated, got my first "real" job, moved in with Lorne, moved away from Seattle, got married, and had two kids. George has been with me for most of the major events of my adulthood so far. When something would go wrong, he'd sit on my lap and purr. (He also did this at other times, but you know. I liked to think he could sense my sadness.) He won't be around when Lorne graduates though, or when we move away from San Diego, and it's weird to think about.
In college, when my roommate Emily or I would try to study, he'd immediately sit on whatever book you had open. George liked to sit on things. Emily eventually started opening a decoy book, waiting for George to come sit on it, and then opening the real book she wanted to use.
The house we lived in before we left for San Diego had a large, wrap-around porch with a screen door. Gracie figured out how to open the door and let herself out. Gracie would disappear into the yard. George would follow her out, then immediately freeze up and sit on the porch, about three feet from the open screen door. He was kind of meant to be an indoor cat.
George was pretty much completely unaware of the fact that he was a large-framed, fat, 20 pound cat. He splayed himself across furniture. He'd perch his front legs on the arm of one chair and his back legs on the arm of another, and let his entire belly hang free in between. He routinely jumped on this old dresser of Lorne's that was at least five feet tall. He could clear the baby gates in our apartment up until he got sick.
Will really loved George and has since he was a baby. George spent the last several weeks of his life in our bedroom, where Will didn't see much of him - he'd go in with me or Lorne and pet him gently every now and then though. Once I went in our room and found Will sitting next to George, telling him he was sorry he felt "sicky." It was very sweet.
I can't find the picture for the life of me, but once we found George curled up with Mr. Lion, Will's lion/blanket thing that he sleeps with, and a pacifier on his paw. Will decided to share the things he needed when he took a nap with his buddy.
Will still talks about how he has two cats, Gracie and George, and George is big and orange, but he hasn't asked where George is yet. We haven't told him that he's gone. We don't think he'd understand yet, and honestly, we don't really know what to say.
So we just let it go. I'm expecting him to ask someday though. Maybe when he does I'll have figured out a way to explain it. Maybe he'll be old enough to understand.
He'd been sick for a while. Sometime in May, Bill and Gail had the kids at Gramma Jo's and Lorne and I went on a rare date, then when we got home he was kind of flailing and yowling and couldn't stand up. He spent several days in an animal hospital, and when he started eating again, we got to take him home.
He never really regained his balance, though it got better, but he was eating and purring and was very happy to hang out in our bedroom and have people pet him. Then, at the end of June, he stopped eating. We took him to the vet to see if there was anything else they could do. We were going to try steroids and a fluid shot, but while we were there George may have had a stroke. He was clearly not doing well and he was unable to see, and he was crying and in pain, so I asked them to put him to sleep. I'm glad I was with him and I'm glad he didn't suffer for more than a few minutes.
Anyway, George was an awesome cat. He was big. He was very well-mannered, unless guests were spending the night - then he tried to sleep on their heads. Or unless turkey was involved. George would eat a lot of human food - he loved yogurt, fish, any kind of meat, and once I caught him eating my salad. But he only jumped on the counters and got obnoxious when you had turkey.
He loved eating, even just plain old cat food, so much so that he purred when he ate. He was great with the kids. He liked snuggling. He was very sweet.
I miss you buddy.
