Oliver chose me as his mother, climbing the bars of the cage at the adoption center & crying loudly. I soon knew he was unlike any kitty I've ever known. He loved everything & everyone. He adored his older brother Fearless (the black cat in some of the photos) & loved to pounce on his big sister Cleo. As a baby, he used to suck on my shirt & purr loudly on my shoulder as I stroked his cashmere-like fur. Soon he began to explore everything, even jumping on to the stove & into a hot pan of bacon one time. Talk about terror on my part, but he was fine & jumped away fast enough to not get hurt, & sat down to enjoy the bacon grease he had collected on his fur. He went outside with his brother and sister on a collar & a lead (which I thought would keep them safe), & loved to chase the crickets in the yard, hopping across the grass in one pounce after another. He loved it when I dragged a branch along the ground & chased it until he was breathless. He loved Fearless & his tail would stand straight up in joy every time he saw his big brother. Oliver would bump heads with him, flop on the ground in front of him & lovingly stare up into his face until Fearless started licking his head.
One of his favorite places to visit me was in the bathroom, and I'll never forget the sound of his stomping little feet as he would run across the wooden floor to see me. Once I was sitting you know where, & he came flying in to the bathroom & dove right into my slacks, curled up & purred. This never failed to make me laugh & give him love. Always between the shower curtain & liner waiting for me to finish a shower, he'd poke his little head around to check on me. When I got out, this was his biggest loving time, going back & forth between my legs, falling on the floor at my feet, sitting on my lap, getting brushed & loving every bit of attention. He would hold his head up high to be petted when I asked "who's a pretty boy?". He was the favorite part of my day.
As a kitten, I used to carry him everywhere. He would be in one arm while I watered the flowers with the hose in the other hand, & I'd wave his paw at passing motorists -most waved back with a big smile on their face! He let me hold him above my head, one hand under each set of legs & sing "cat show pose", which always made me laugh. One of his favorite games was diving after hands under a sheet or pillow. He loved catnip, dried or fresh, & loved to ambush everyone.
Tragically, yesterday, while he was laying on his favorite spot in our yard, he was attacked by a large chow dog from a neighbor's house. I tried to save him, and I did get him away, but after taking my poor little angel to the vet and trying his best to survive, he died after a brave 6-hour fight. I was there when his heart stopped, and mine did, too, because I knew I'd never find another Oliver. I know he's at peace now, and I hope and pray with all my heart that he'll be there to greet me one day, but the pain right now is pretty unbearable. Maybe he's with my father, getting petted and purring loudly, and getting to know our family pets who've gone ahead. I just keep looking at the photos of his beautiful face and try to remember all the smiles, laughs and joy that he brought to my life. He was only 18 months old, and he's gone far too soon, but he lived every minute to it's fullest, and I never once saw him seem anything but joyful, grateful and happy to be alive.
He was my special baby, the best hugger around, Fearless' best buddy and he will be missed every day of my life. I just hope he didn't suffer and that he's chasing crickets in heaven. I love you Oliver, my little Ollie, my pretty boy. Thank you for choosing me to love. I'm so very sorry this had to happen to you.