We got a call at 11pm Sunday night. A sweet vet tech from around the corner found Quint in the middle of the street on her way in to work at the 24 hour clinic.
He probably never knew what hit him – it was immediate and catastrophic. The nice vet tech gave him to me in a box, wrapped in a pad, because I wanted to bring him home
I had just been sitting with him on the couch around 10, then he slipped out for a moment. I was about to go call him in when she called.
The cats never even go over to Dwight Way, what was he doing there?. And where did his reflective collar go? She found our information from his chip, the collar was gone. (Would the asshat charging up Dwight who hit him have slowed even if he’d seen him?)
There’s his shiny useless collar, and his shining beautiful tooth.
Here he is when we first got him. Frankly he didn’t think much of us. But he’d used up all his time at the shelter, and had an appointment with a needle the next day. He’d have lived his whole life in a kennel.
So he and his brother came home with Doc.
Once he was out of the box, it was weeks before I could pat him. The Shelter ladies said just to grab him, but I thought he’d had enough of that. The first step was sitting in Sair’s room and letting him come to me, and he did.
I waited him out, and he became My Guy. We ended up like this:
He became the original scarfkitty, burrowing under my hair, squirming and climbing to get as close as he could to Glorious Me! He was convinced there was a way to make my lap happen just under my chin, because anything else was just too far away. He was the happiest cat ever. There was more to being a cat than sitting in a kennel. There was a whole world full of things and people and it was all just grand. And if he wasn’t sitting on me, he was sitting in a great four-headed black cat pile with his brother, hanging out with Doc, who had became another sibling.
He was an intense, very loving guy. Faster, smarter, shinier than anyone else ever. As if he knew he’d have to pack everything into a short time. I’m missing him.