Some days, even almost two years later, I still miss my little girl so much, it feels like she just left me yesterday. I’m grateful I have eight years of Ruby’s Reflections on this site to comfort me and remind me of some of the cute things she did when the pain hits.
We don’t realize how quickly we can forget the small, everyday things after we lose a loved one. It’s one of the many reasons why I encourage people to journal after they lose a cat and write down as many memories as they can. Capturing memories while they’re fresh in our minds is a precious gift to ourselves.
Today’s memory goes back to March of 2016, when Ruby wrote extensively about how she trained me to sleep with her. My little girl was the best cuddler ever. I called her my velcro kitten, because if she had had her way, she would have been touching me in some shape or form all the time, and that didn’t end when we went to bed. Allegra sleeps next to me, but to date she has never liked it if I even so much as try to put my arm around her. Ruby, on the other hand, always settled in the crook of my arm and rested her head on my shoulder as we drifted off to sleep.
Read Ruby on Sleeping with Humans for Ruby’s full “training program.”
I think this is my favorite of your memories of Ruby, Ingrid. Thanks for sharing.
Piper was our velcro cat. She always snuggled with us in the bed. As she aged and I think her kidney disease made her feel cold, she slept on my stomach, which was surprisingly a wonderful feeling for me.
Gabie slept near us, but not with us, for the first several years. Our bed in our boat had a counter right next to the mattress, and she liked to be there in her open soft carrier, right next to my husband’s head. When he woke up, he played with her, which she loved, and his laughter woke me up, to their amusement. In year 6, we got a new mattress in the house, and Gabie instantly joined us on it, right next to my husband’s head. She braced her front paws and pushed his chest back with her hips until he moved over, causing me to move back, and thus took “her third” of the bed (at least). We adjusted accordingly. If I washed my very long hair before bed and it was still damp, she would come over and lie in it and roll around in it, rubbing her face and head with it, before settling down by his head and purring us all to sleep. We still miss her. Sometimes I dream I feel her in my hair or hear her purring.
SapphoLily, our present cat, sleeps on her bed on the living room rug where she can see us in the bed. She has occasionally gotten up on the bed, and one time, slept soundly for an hour and a half, but we were not yet in it. She has only started sleeping in the house this year, formerly preferring our screened-in patio(regular bed and a heated cubebed) so perhaps joining us in the bed will be a future pleasure.
Ingrid,
Thank-you for sharing Ruby memories. They keep her alive for us. As for the other Conscious Cat members who have lost furry kids, my condolences on their loss. But also thanks for sharing too. We are all cat/kitten lovers at heart.
Nan
Ruby was a precious little kitty. You were so lucky that she liked to cuddle with you like that. My tortie, Sophie, will sleep on my lap sometimes but she can often be very standoffish. They all have such different personalities.
How sad, Dick. I’m so sorry. Losing my beloved Cleo still brings tears to my eyes over forty years later.
What a sweet memory. Some of what Ruby did is what Nani did. She was my velcro kitty.
i just lost my cat Max yesterday. My heart is forever broken
Ingrid,
Your relationship with Ruby sounds like mine with my Nikki, my sweet little sable Burmese, He was always with me and slept curled up in my armpit every night (and every other chance he got).
Nikki tragically died of aspiration pneumonia at only three years of age in 1965. He was my first cat, and I knew very little about how to take care of a cat other than to love him, feed him, give him good vet care and keep his litterbox clean. My vet at the time told me to relieve a constipation condition with orally administered mineral oil, and did not advise me of the danger and precautions to take.
Nikki died at the emergency hospital two days after I gave him his first dose.
To this day, 56 years later, I still break down and cry every time I think of him, which is very often, and have never touched mineral oil again. A terrible lesson learned in a very tragic way.
I still miss and love that sweet little creature. He was my perfect furkid.
I truly understand your feelings about Ruby.
Dick Weavil
Rockville MD