When I met the Mad Scientist, he had an old cat. Don't ask how old though. The Mad Scientist does not remember when he got Rookie. He just knows that Rookie was a baby when he was chosen from the animal shelter and he was pretty old when we met in March 2003.
Rookie and the Mad Scientist were very connected. Best buds. The two of them went through quite a bit together. So, of course, when the Mad Scientist and I moved in together, Rookie came as part of the package.
Rookie and I always had a love/hate relationship. I would scratch his ears and pet his belly, but I hated that he would take beautiful things and ruin them, then vomit up the remains for us to clean up. But then he'd do something cute and I could forgive him. Granted, when we had flowers sent to our house when our babies were born or when my grandmother died, those had to be locked in the bathroom.
Rookie loved sleeping in our bed. I hated when he vomited in our bed (last time he slept there!)
Rookie loved my shoes. I hated when he vomited in my shoes. A love/hate relationship.
But, Rookie did clue me in when we had a mouse in the house when TRex was a baby (and I way overreacted and immediately called an exterminator, rather than put traps out!) He was a hunter.
He eventually became the hunted as well. TRex crawled for the first time because he wanted to get to Rookie.
TRex walked for the first time because he wanted to get to Rookie. Or was that DQ? It doesn't matter. Rookie was loved and chased.
|Rookie would run from TRex, but DQ he let pet him (well until she could run!)|
Rookie always wanted to go outside, but was crazy scared when he got there.
Mostly though, Rookie slept.
Rookie slept a lot.
He slept in the most interesting places.
Every once in a while though, Rookie would play.
|Yes, that is catnip he somehow got out of my cupboard and opened in the living room!|
Rookie was a very large cat. He was fat, but mostly just really big. This summer, we started to notice that Rookie was losing weight. He was vomiting a lot more. I made the Mad Scientist take him to the vet. We were told it wasn't a big deal and he came home after treatment and seemed to be better, but never quite the same.
Over the last two weeks, Rookie started to drool, so the Mad Scientist set up an appointment. On Thursday night, the Mad Scientist, TRex, and DQ took Rookie to the vet, where we all assumed he would be left for the night to have a tooth pulled. Ten minutes into the appointment, I got a frantic phone call from the Mad Scientist. The kids were in the bathroom while he told me about the gigantic tumor in Rookie's mouth, going down his throat, blocking his ability to eat and drink. Rookie had to be put down. Even if we did surgery, the vet indicated it would only buy us a little time and Rookie would be in misery.
They brought Rookie home and we all said goodbye. Friday afternoon, the Mad Scientist and I took Rookie to the vet for the last time.
R.I.P. Rookie Cookie. We love you!