Dickens 1992-2010

Dickens... takin' a nap a few years back.

Dickens Croes, our 18-year-old Tabby cat passed away in the night.  He had been fading away over the past month, so it was no surprise.  Mercifully he lost the ability to walk only on his final day on the planet.  As Dickens’ health declined steeply in the past month, it seems he didn’t understand why he wasn’t able to do the things he was used to doing.  It’s difficult not being able to tell him why.  I wanted to tell him we are all made from the same elements as the stars, and eventually we are all reclaimed by the stars.  So we carried him upstairs to our bedroom last night, placed him on a large comfy pet pillow, and there he quietly went to sleep forever.

He came to us in 1992. He was born the runt of a litter at a neighbor’s house.  He had been neglected. He was weak and covered with fleas.  He was only a few weeks old and so small we could hold him in the palm of our hand.  Joyce rescued him one night very late.  She carefully bathed and combed the shivering little creature.  She placed him in a box with a soft warm blanket in an empty back room.  I still remember the next morning when Dickens shakily emerged, walking toward me down the hall, meowing his adenoidal purr (which he never lost). It’s amazing he survived the first night.

Dickens loved to have his head petted (though he drooled copiously while we did it).  He begged like a dog when we cooked.   He once swallowed a needle and thread, resulting in midnight emergency surgery at a vet hospital. Dickens was a timid and clumsy jumper.  But still he had the moxie of his father, a big tough Tabby that used to perch on our back fence.  Our Dickens had many of the annoying habits and instincts cats possess.  We loved him for it.

When Dickens joined our household, we lived with a 60-lb. black lab named Sam.  Sam had been cornered and clawed by a cat in his earlier days. Sam was at first deathly afraid of Dickens, even though Dickens was the size of tea cup.  But as Sam and Dickens grew up together, they became best pals.  Sam and Dickens would roam the cul-de-sac side by side.  Dickens would feel particularly tough since he had a big black lab as a protector.  They would wrestle and tumble.  Dickens would attack Sam’s haunches like he was a lion bringing down an elephant.  When Sam finally passed away 12 years ago, Dickens lost his favorite buddy.

Dickens will always be in my heart.  His presence was a part of my day every day for the past 18 years.  I’m going to miss the little fellow.

Now he's back with Sam, roaming the stars.