Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Remembering Spike

I was scrolling through my facebook page today.  I do this because sometimes I post things and forget, so like any self-regulating human being, I make sure that I did not drunk-post anything that I would regret.  Luckily, most of my drunk posts weigh in on the side of silly/stupid vs. embarrasing.  I am too hung up as a human being to go the embarrassing route. Both a blessing and a curse.
In any case, in this self-policing moment, I came across some pictures of our cat, who passed away two and a half years ago.  These days, we have two dogs, but back in the day, we had two dogs and a grey striped bundle of cattitude named Spike. There are times when, in my weakness, I consider getting another cat, but I just can't do it.  I feel like I have had perfection and that any other animal would be a let down.  Let me explain.

What you probably don't know about me is that I am what has been described by my sister-in-laws as a "laissez faire" parent.  Which in their lexicon, probably means I don't apply the proper level of Martial Law in the household. However, I feel that it is best that I choose my battles and trust my kids enough to give them just enough freedom to learn from their experiences, yet remain safe.  You say tomato, I say stuff a watermelon up your bum.  Same difference.

The same trust but verify parenting style came into play when parenting my cat Spike.  He was hipper and smarter than the room about 100% of the time.  A child of the streets, he was born outside, chose his owner and exercised a high degree of autonomy at an early age.  He was not about to be micro-managed by some fascist human trying to impose order on him. Who was I to tell him that he couldn't be an indoor/outdoor cat? He and I shared the same impression of litter boxes; uncouth and a hotbed of disease.  And of course, he's gotta be free to survey the flora and the fauna and occasionally make a kill.  When you don't have your testicles, you have to find other ways to assert your manliness...or so I'm told.

Spike was not a snuggler with his humans, but he cuddled with the dogs like nobody's business. If I got to apply a few lightly appreciated scratches behind the ears, I was over the moon. He forged an astonishingly affectionate relationship with his unhinged brother-dog Buzz, who really was the punishment that none of us ever deserved. Yet there was genuine sweetness and love between Spike and this lizard-brained dodo, in spite of his natural tendencies to chase and erradicate the smaller woodland creatures of the world.  And like all of us, Spike adored Brownie the Wonderdog, because only a half-crazed sociopath on crack and off his behavioral meds would dislike Brownie.

So, I stand by my no new cat rule because how many, cool, smart, independent yet loving, outdoor pooping, indoor sleeping, toast stealing, ukulele playing, dog snuggling, look both ways before crossing the street, cats are there in the universe?  I think one, and I had him.  For this laissez fair cat parent, the is no other but Spike the Hotness Monster.  Behold and appreciate...the cat, the myth, the legend - SPIKE!


This is Spike's badass look. It always reminded me of when Snoopy perched on top of a tree or is doghouse and looked like a vulture.


We call this pose "the roast". It's a more effective name when both feet are tucked under him, but he was not one to conform.


Buttered toast stealing a specialty.


Yes, he played the ukulele. You wanna make something of it?


Sharing nap space.  It was always a coup for the kids if they had multiple animals sleeping on their bed.


Yes, he is judging you. You're just going to have to deal with it.


Clearly, he feels that he can take a better photo. "Gimme that thing."




4 Your comments, banter and witty repartee:

hokgardner said...

Awww. I remember spike. he was an awesome cat.

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

HOKGardener - Thanks. He was one of a kind. No more cats for me. No worries about the exploding cat population though, my mom has adopted enough cats for all of us.

Ms. G said...

Ah DG I remember Spike too. And I understand what you mean. I will never have another cat like his equally snaggle eared distant cousin from the south that I lost this spring. The most lovable loyal companion ever. But I have to tell you, I NEED a special cat of my own. So I found a rescue and waited 6 weeks for a tiny kitten to grow old and well enough to bring home. And he's a right little shit and refuses to snuggle and attacks me every time I move and Loves the dog. Nothing wrong with not rushing out for another. Maybe in time another Hotness Monster will appear when you least expect it. Or I could offer Free Shipping?

Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Mrs G- You've got that right. Spike chose us and unless another dashingly handsome, frightfully independent and cooler than me cat comes up and asks (in english) to be taken home, it isn't happening.

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