Goodbye, Kipper

Kipper in Window

He is gone, he of the splay foot and the silky coat. My little buddy, my little Jean Marais beastie. He’s Connor’s cuddle buddy. He’s my alarm clock; even this morning I awoke thinking I’d heard that impatient yowl. He was always quite the talker. And always underfoot: I always feared one day I’d trip down the stairs as he wound around my feet.

Things happened pretty fast. What we thought was his teeth flaring up again turned about to be a combination of underlying problems. He went from appearing fine and healthy just a few days ago to this. The vet — who’s so very English but kind — let me be with him as he slipped away. Bertie came home at lunchtime to help me bury him. I put a veve for Erzulie on the little white cardboard coffin and we wrapped him in the Gossip Girl lap blanket (thanks, Brenda) that he loved to lie on, so he went off in style.

So now we have a pet cemetery at the house. Robert’s going to put Jordan’s ashes next to Kipper’s marble slab. It’s so strange to be without him.

25 thoughts on “Goodbye, Kipper

  1. Ah, no! So sorry Kate. I still remember the time when you were moving and he got up inside the box spring of the bed and we had one heck of a time getting him out.

  2. I’m so sorry for your loss. I enjoyed all your stories and pictures of him–especially the skype pictures. And I’m glad you had each other.

  3. Very sorry, Kate…having just lost a cat, not too long ago, the reminder of what we can and can’t do (we can love our cats, and hope to make their lives better, but we can’t arrest time for them any more than for us) is often so ungracious. Glad you’ve been able to spend some more time with fuzzy K, even up to the end. I’ll miss being his spokesape.

  4. A no-thumb salute to a fine cat-o-mate.
    My fondest memory of Lord Kipper – in fact, my only memory of anything – is of his sitting on my head. A cat hat for me, a dome home for him (ensconced on a bonce). It was a sensible living arrangement.

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