Ferris Bueller the Cat

In Memory

April 18, 1999 - November 27, 2009

We lost our beloved Ferris early this morning after a short battle with lung tumors. After his emergency visit in September, we noticed he had a persistant cough that wouldn't go away.  The veterinarian took his x-rays and found tumors, something that occurs in about one percent or less of animals. We made a date for his biopsy to see if there was anything we could do to save him, but on Tuesday, his conditioned worsened. We expedited his biopsy appointment, and after the procedure, it was apparent Ferris wasn't going to survive the aggressive tumors.

To keep him from suffering, we decided to let him go. It was peaceful, he didn't feel anything and we were there to hold him and tell him how much we was a sweet, beautiful boy and how much we loved him.

Our house feels so quiet, empty as does our hearts. We are mourning the loss of our fur-child, our baby who put up with us and loved us unconditionally. We take comfort in knowing we gave him everything ever wanted and he knew he was loved--and that he loved us back.

Ferris loved being chased around the house to play hide-and-seek, loved to be with us outside, loved for us to play with Mr. String and Blankie Monster with him. Every morning, it was ritual.  He'd wake us up with a grumble, a purr, or a persistant meow to let us know he was hungry. He'd follow me into the shower where he wanted to be held the moment I got out. He loved for his Daddy to give him massages and rough-housing before we left for the day, only to be at the door or window to greet us when we got home. He always joined us for meals, never wasting an opportunity to ask for a treat, and he relaxed with us where ever we decided to wind down from a busy day. Even now, as I write this, I keep expecting him to crawl up the side of the chair, or beg to be picked up and placed in my lap where he would purr, drool and cry out if I wasn't paying enough attention to him. My lap is cold. He should be curled up here with me. At night, he loved to curl up between us, on top of us, and when we weren't feeling well, he'd curl up next to our heads as if sensing we were sick or sad. I loved feeling him fall asleep in my arms as he'd take one last deep purr and settle into a dream. All of his vocal cries, meows, impatient huffs, attention barks, and how his hot, stinky kisses could dash away any bad day.

We learned so much from our baby Ferris. Patience, never miss an opportunity to relax, always show your love and affection freely and, if the situation warranted, with drool, never have too much pride to ask for what you want--you will probably get it, and enjoy the simple beauty of everything around you, even if it's that darn neighborhood street cat taunting you through the window. And no matter if no one understands you, talk. Chances are they'll get used to you enough to know what you're trying to say.

He will never leave our hearts, we have our wonderful memories of him. When no one else wanted him, we gave him the happiest home and almost 11 years of a wonderful life.

Ferris, thank you so much for finding us, and letting us love you, and in no uncertain terms, loving us.

"He sure is a sensitive little guy..."

Over the weekend, Ferris gave us all a pretty good scare. Doing construction on the front entryway was way more involved than we thought it was going to be. And way dustier than we anticipated. It didn't help that we didn't block off the area we were working on, so moldy insolation and dry wall particle dust went everywhere. We tried to keep Ferris out of the way as possible, for his protection just as much as ours, what with all the supplies and materials, nails and screws he could get into.

We kept him our room for the better part of the day. During a break I stowed him away in his room with food and water so he'd also have access to his litter box. We kept him in there for a few hours. He didn't seem interested in using any of those services, so I put him back in our room so we could have the front window's air circulation.

Once we were finished for the evening, Vin went into the room to let him out. It was there he discovered Ferris had had an accident on the bed, and was very distraught over it, hiding under our bed. Once he came out, he threw up all over the floor. Trying to comfort him so he knew it wasn't his fault, I knew there was something wrong with him right away. Earlier in the afternoon he had suffered, unbeknownst to me, an asthma attack. I thought it was a simple hairball he was coughing up.

After he was let out of the room, he was distant, trying to hide, slow-moving and visibly depressed. I figured it was just his shame of having an accident. Vin left that evening to go with our friend Curt to catfish.

After I settled in for the night, I noticed Ferris wasn't well at all. He had flopped into the office, where I was, and when I called to him, he wasn't responsive. I knelt down to pick him up and he was limp in my hands. He came to once I had him in my arms, but promptly wanted down. He crawled under my desk and laid his head down, his breathing labored. I called my friend Cheryl to come look at him. She would tell me if I was paranoid or not.

She agreed he didn't seem well so off to the emergency vet we went. Usually when Ferris is in his carrier he cries and yowls the whole time. Not this night, he promptly curled up into a quiet ball. Once at the vet he was so lethargic and listless. Two hours later, the doctor was able to see him and didn't see any reason to run tests. I do love how they give you worst case scenario to send you into a panic, though. The words "Kidney failure, and acute renal failure" were mentioned. Yes, I cried. But, she didn't see me paying for emergency rate tests and to wait until our vet could see Ferris.

We had to wait until Wednesday to take him because our vet was on an extended holiday for the labor day weekend. Those were the longest 3 days of monitoring and watching the little bugger to make sure he was eating, drinking, pooping and peeing. He didn't seem to appreciate the extra attention, not one bit. He couldn't bring himself to liven up, but he certain could flick his tail in a way that told me to leave him alone.

Overall Vin and I got him back on all four feet and his vet did a blood panel that told us he was perfectly fine. Healthy as a ... well, cat. No failure of any kind, just elevated white blood counts due to stress. The construction was dusty, smelly and loud, definitely not a fun place for a kitty. Cheryl said, "He sure is a sensitive little guy..."

She is so right!

Playing Hard to Get. Until Dinner Time.

We are such bad parents. And Ferris has no problem telling us that. Not only did we leave him for FOUR DAYS (with water and food and access to catnip), but it was during the 4th OF JULY. Big booms and bangs and scary loud noises and lights. Don't worry, he had a sitter. But, he had no problem telling us he was pissed off.

Thankfully he didn't pee on something, like the bed (or the dog several years ago when we brought him home. Yes, he peed ON the dog), or yack on our faces in our sleep when we got home, instead he ignored us. He didn't want to be picked up, held or be played with in any matter.

Until it was time for bed the day we got back. He cried to be held, cuddled, petted and loved. And then, he talked all damn night.

I don't know about y'alls cats, but ours talks to us. Yes, as in chats. I'll be holding him, petting him, kissing on him, or trying to snooze off and he'll be chittering, meowing, chuffing, purring until he's ready to go to sleep. He's done this for the last two nights, catching us up, I'm sure, on all his shenanigans over the last few days. Like why his food is in tiny kibble bits all over the kitchen floor, or how so much food gets in his water, or how he shed two inches of fur all over the bed.

It's okay. We know he missed us, and during our time in Crescent City, we missed him to pieces too.

Ferris Foundation

So, Turd Boy is 10! If he were a real child he'd be a fifth grader. Spooky. Instead he's a yacking, crying, up-at-all-hours of the night, temper tantrum throwing perpetual 2 year old. He is starting to mellow out, we've noticed. And, he's becoming more of a Daddy's boy! Pining after his dad, chasing after him to play with him, and then begging for attention... pfft.

 Since we've decided to not let him out any more (torture, abuse, neglect, I know!) we've noticed a significant decrease in his yack-land mines. Until this week. He must have a blockage. We've been feeding him the Halo brand foods and mixing hair-ball remedy in to help him out. But, back to the land mine story.

 I had left my towel on the corner of the bed last. The next morning, groggily getting up to start my day I grabbed up the towel and headed into the shower. After, I blinked the water and sleep out of my eyes and went to dry my face off in the plush yellow towel and was welcomed with half-dried cat yack. Thankfully I had opened my eyes enough to see it before I gave myself a cat-vomit facial.

 I suppose I should be grateful he aimed for the towel and not the carpet or the bedspread.

 Ferris has taken to, in the mornings, sitting on top of the table (a big no-no) to survey his great savannah (the backyard) like a lion. Before, he'd scramble off a surface he knew he wasn't supposed to be on, but with his cantankerous age, he'll sullenly glare at me before he lopes off, only to return to the spot, I'm sure, after I leave.

Sir Yack-a-lot

Ferris has always had a bit of a bullemia issue. He'll gorge himself and yack it out. Most times while we're sleeping and he's in the windowsill. It is then projectile vomitting on our head, ala the Exorcist. In trying new things to keep him from throwing up all the time (and losing weight) we've stopped letting him go outside.

He hates Petromalt, probably because I used to chase him around the house with it, and will even avoid wet food it's mixed up in. We've put it in the natural Halo food, but that in itself looks like vomit and I don't blame Ferris one bit for turning his nose up at it. I don't want to eat food that looks like vomit either.

So, keeping him indoors, much to his utter dismay, seems to be doing the trick in keeping him healthy. No grass feeding for this kitty!