What is it with humans? That they cannot let go of the past? Always flying the flag for their beloved, long after they have departed this world, and memories should have faded?
Dear Sam, Ollie and Casey
When I arrived at Tom Cat Towers way back, long, long ago in 2007 it was as a companion for Tushtots.
Tushtots was an elderly tabby Persian and his human thought he would like company whilst she was away at a place called work. I arrived in a battered old cat basket which was placed on the bed and the wire front opened. Tushtots immediately blustered his way into the basket to see what was in there. He was most surprised to see me!!
Tushtots, whilst welcoming and friendly, didn’t want company. The centre of his universe, and his reason for living was his human. He did not want anyone else in his life!
You see Tushtots was a rescued cat and for that he was eternally grateful. He adored the very ground our human walked upon. He decided to become a career cuddle-kitten and was with her for every waking minute of the day whilst she was at home.
When she wasn’t at Tom Cat Towers, she was presenting her radio programme, Tushtots had the Internet left on so he could hear her voice and be comforted. When the human came home, he would, very vocally, critique her presentation and interviewing techniques.
He was content to snooze the day away on the bed with one ear half cocked for the return of our human.
When he heard our human’s car he would race to the kitchen and press his face up to the glass door with a smile on his whiskers doing very loud, meowsie, wowsie meet and greet as she stumbled through the door. He would chirrup and comment on meal preparation, escort her to the bathroom and sit on a towel on the toilet and supervise bath time whilst she wallowed in hot water and bubbles. He would lie on his back in her arms looking adoringly into her eyes whilst she indulged in human catnip, champagne, or red wine by the glass. Then he would march into the bedroom, stretch out and hog the bed as she retired for the night. He would then snuggle up to her and pour his love out all night in the form of comforting purrs.
They were an item; the love affair of the century and I couldn’t compete for the complete love of either of them. Three’s company as they say.
Then Tushtots died and the human was inconsolable. She still had me, but as a royal Himalayan Lynx, I had no intention of slipping into a dead cat’s paws and following her round like a loon. I have my dignity. I need 23 hours a day beauty snoozles, and I will dole out hugs very rarely. I do allow the human to share the big brass bed on which I took up residence when Tushers died and will purr, but I don’t do snuggling up.
My human clearly doesn’t appreciate my regal pedigree and still hankers after Tushtots. Even now she will get misty eyed if she finds a photo or an old toy of his.
The human went on holiday to Malta. As usual, she had her "holiday romances" with local strays who mugged her for cat kibbles and packets of sliced chicken and she was daft enough to spend her hard earned money on these waifs and strays.
She was walking down the main street of Valetta and caught sight of ‘him’ out of the corner of her eye. Her heart stopped and the blood drained from her face, it was as if she had seen a ghost!
This is The Tushtots Tribute Tom and he had my human wrapped round his claw!! She sat right down on the main street and gave him her undivided attention which he clearly appreciated. She spent ages with him, clearly befuddled into thinking it was the real Tushie!! She went back the next day, and indeed every day to see him, she couldn’t bear to leave him.
When she came home she was very sad.
The Tushtots Tribute Tom seems to have rekindled old memories of the real thing, and yet again she is sad. I have a horrible feeling that she would have catnapped him if she could, and stuffed him in her suitcase to bring back to Tom Cat Towers!
Why can’t she just let go? I know that she loves me and that I may be Miss Snooty Pantaloons and not do social, but I’m still here. When the mood grabs me I do give her a bit of fuss now and again, but I can never lower myself to be the full on 24/7, in yer face, loud and vocal, stalker mog that Tushtots was. As a royal I give attention sparingly.
What I find quite bizarre, bordering on unhinged, are the following two things:-
1. Since “Her Heart’s Diamond” (snigger ye not, that’s what she referred to him as) died, she cannot read “Over the Rainbow Bridge” without bursting into tears, and ending up with snot bubbles! Most unattractive, and I have to remove myself in case my pelt becomes encrusted with said bodily fluids.
2. When I am groomed, my fur either goes straight into the bin, or it goes out for the birds to line their nests with. (I do hope they are grateful for this unselfish gesture from a high class Himalayan Lynx). The human has a big bag of Tushtots’ old fur which she kept after grooming him. Occasionally she gets it out for a sniff either to give her comfort or to have a cry over.
Mewsers, this seriously is behaviour that should lead her to being committed to one of those special places for people who are unhinged.
Now Mewsers, this is my problem. This silly hankering after an ex-pussy cat has got to stop; it’s not doing her any good!!
So Sam, Ollie and Casey, what is the answer to this conundrum? How do I get her to just let go and realise he isn’t coming back?
Little Dumpty Roo
TomCat Towers
How would you respond to Dumpty's dilemma. Send your answers via the contact us link or direct to p.dewberry@ntlworld.com. The best will be sent to Dumpty and her Human to read and will be published here.
You can read Dumpties diaries here
"One cat is company.
Two cats are a conspiracy.
Three cats is an attempted takeover.
Four or more cats is a complete coup!"
Shona Steele (Australia)