My Seppie: 7/31/01 - 7/28/10

We lost our Sepp today, but as sad as it is for us, it was better for him this way.

Without getting into too much detail about his illness, we suspect he had some form of cancer or leukemia. Whatever it was, it seemed to hit him quickly - we didn't realize until about a month ago that he seemed a little skinny, and based on his activity level and behavior didn't feel that there was a major concern until about two weeks ago.

We've long been of the feeling that it was not in the best interests of any of our guys to go through any kind of major procedure (surgery, chemo, etc.), so after a few days of treatment with medication didn't help we knew that we had to let him go. I'm glad that we were able to do it for him while he was still himself, and before he started experiencing pain. But, enough of the sadness for now. Here's a little eulogy of my very first special little guy...

I adopted Sepp on September 18, 2001 - he was about 7 weeks old. I knew he was perfect for me when I picked him up and he boldly put his little paws on my chest, looked me straight in the eye and meowed. I took him home and he hid under the bed all night, and for the next two days sat behind my refrigerator and howled all day while I was at work. At least, I think he howled all day - he was quite loud when I came home at lunch to check on him, and when I got home after work. Once he got over that, things were fine. He quickly became friends with everyone who came over, flopping down on them, climbing into their shoes, or just wanting their attention.

He was a very playful and sneaky kitten, too. He liked to do things like hide behind the couch or around a corner and jump onto your leg while you were walking by. Unrolling all of the toilet paper was big fun, as was knocking the African violets & the aloe plant off of the kitchen window sill. After the fall I got him I could no longer keep plants in the house. That was Ok, though - he made up for it by being sweet. He loved to cuddle, and he spent every night sleeping on my pillow right above my head. These two things continued, albeit less frequently, even as he grew and took up more room on the pillow than my head did.

Since I was living in Milwaukee when I got him and frequently spent the weekend in Chicago, Sepp was very used to riding in the car. I figured since he was used to it I might as well take him out on a regular basis, and I took him pretty much anywhere people would let me. The summer after Trey and I met, he came down to a few of Trey's community band concerts and sat very nicely on the blanket with me the whole time. I think he rather liked getting out and exploring the world. He especially liked being outside because he could munch on the grass.

Once Siggy came along, Sepp's temperament changed a little, which made me glad I ended up giving him a laid-back kind of name (it took me 4 days to name him, and I almost went with Wolfie because he seemed mischievous). Sepp, who I took care to train very well, effectively took charge of the house and trained Siggy for us. Sepp knew what was and what wasn't allowed, and if he caught Siggy doing something that wasn't allowed, he'd do a little yell and haul off and smack his new little brother. From then on, he acted like a grump most of the time, but still loved to cuddle and be sweet with us.

When Trey and I moved to Italy, we couldn't imagine not taking our boys along. Sepp spent a very happy couple of years between sitting on the second floor landing, where he had a nice view of the majority of his kingdom, and out in the screened-in porch...until he figured out that he could push the screen door outward and make a quick getaway. Still, though, Sepp's being out on the porch made for good entertainment for us, since that's where he caught his geckos.

See, Sepp loved playing Jungle Kitty, and was quite a little hunter despite being an indoor only cat. In Italy, he'd catch geckos on the porch, run inside to the corner, and look at me with this panicked, "What do I do now?" look on his face. Eventually he'd let them go, and on the off chance they were alive, he'd play with them until they were dead. One of them actually got away and made it safely behind the entertainment center - Sepp sat and waited for it to come out, not moving for 4 hours. :-)

Sepp also had this thing for hanging out in boxes. Sometimes, he'd take whatever he caught, which was usually one of those fuzzy toy mice, back to his box on the floor and hoard/guard it. Here's a great picture of him having stolen one of those fuzzy toys on a pole & string and taking it back to his tent. He ran off with the whole toy, pole and all.



Once Willie found us, Sepp became a little more of a loner in terms of his relationships with the other cats, but he was still as sweet as ever with us. He was always the most intuitive of our guys - if you were home from work because you were playing hooky he'd just hang out in the room with you, but if you were home because you were sick he was right there curled up next to you. He spent his last few days sitting mainly in Trey's closet, something totally uncharacteristic for him, but came out last night and this morning I think so that we could spend time with him. He let me pet him and sob for as long as I needed to.

I will miss his asserting that he was the cat in charge, and really the one of the five of us who ran the place. I'll miss his coming in to the bathroom to say hello if you didn't have the door latched all the way. I'll miss his gorgeous, almost black coat everyone always told us was so beautiful, and the little white spots on his chest, neck and back toes. I will miss having to spell the word b-r-u-s-h, because if I said it and didn't start doing it to him, I'd be in trouble. I'll miss his sneaking out onto the patio so he could munch on some grass, and then meowing in protest but obediently going in when we told him it was time to go inside. I'll miss his jumping up on the bed at night, all but demanding either Trey or I lay on our backs so he could sit on our chests. Finally, I'll miss his letting his guard down, showing us his baby face while cuddling.

I looked through my Cornell Book of Cats and found that at the end of the Geriatrics chapter is a small section on euthanasia. The last paragraph reads:

Unlike humans, animals seem to have no concept of death. There cannot be apprehension, traumatic fear, or panic when the inevitable occurs. There is simply unending, peaceful sleep.

Goodbye Seppie, and thank you for all of the memories, and for the incredibly unexpected amount of joy you've brought to my life over the past 9 years. Like all of the wonderful and dear people I've come to know, love, and have later lost, you will always have your very own special place in my heart.