Tuesday, October 19, 2010
For my beloved....
Ok. I'm writing about my cat.
My beloved cat.
Mimpy, the wimpy baby.
Mimpy was acquired as a kitten, purchased even, from a mall pet store. She was one of those little store front kittens. The ones in the window. She was originally my eldest sister Carina's cat. I was approximately between the ages of two and three when she came home.
I think her name may have been 'Mint' originally. I'm not really sure why Carina picked that, but she did. And then Mint changed to Minty and then Minty changed to Mimpy (or Mimp or Mimpsy). Why the change? Because Mimpy rhymes with wimpy, and if there was ever a pathetic, wimpy little kitten, it was Mimpy. She would crawl around on her belly outside, frightened of everything. She was that cat that would dash away at the slightest little sound.
As my sister tells it, on at least one occasion there was a hot air balloon landing in our yard outside the house and Carina ran to watch them land and took Mimpy along with her. They got pretty close and the hot air balloon let out a little more hot air which made a loud whoooshing sound and Mimpy was free and flying, like a lightning bolt, back to the house into some bushes. You've never seen a cat run so fast.
Carina also talked about Mimpy coming in and jumping up on Carina while she was asleep and licking her face until she woke up. :)
I also had a little bird when we were growing up. A little parakeet. I seem to recall that its name was Budgie....or something like that. A rather nasty bird, but I loved it all the same. Budgie resided in a little cage which rested on the ledge between the kitchen and the TV room. We came home on one occasion to find the cage knocked over and feathers everywhere, leading up to my sister's room where Mimpy usually hid. Yes, dearest little Mimpy had indeed eaten Budgie. We found a foot. I may have shed a few tears, but Mimpy's only punishment was that she had to stay outside for a few days. And then she was back in and everything returned to normal. I never got any more birds.
Let's see. Over the years, Mimpy mellowed out a great deal. We stopped dressing her up in doll clothes, which I'm sure she appreciated. For a year she lived with my grandparents in Colorado, quite comfortably, I assume, and my grandpa always called her "Persnickety". I'm not sure why, but that was his name for her.
After we moved to Indiana, Mimpy was an inside/outside cat for the most part. She lasted through a number of other cats who came and went (we've never had more than three cats at a time, but we've had a lot of cats. They come, we decide to keep them, and then they often disappear.), and learned to get along with most of them.
I remember that at one point my mom was painting the door from the house into the garage and Mimpy decided she wanted to come in so she quickly squeezed between my mom and the door (the wet door). Shortly later my brother and I were in my room talking, and we heard the most atrocious noises coming from the bathroom. Apparently Mimpy had taken a little of the paint from the door with her (into the house) and my mom was attempting to remove it. Mimpy never did care for baths. We gave her a number of them, although more and more infrequently (since it was never a fun experience for anyone involved), and every time she yawled and ended up looking like a little drowned rat afterward. A very unhappy little kitty.
In the last couple of years I would spend as much time as I could with her, petting her and holding her in my lap when I could. You kind of had to work up to doing that because she had trouble taking care of her coat and tended to shed as well as having sort of oily fur. But the more I pet her and brushed her, the smoother and nicer her coat was. She would sleep on top of my dad's corvette, nestled between the front windshield and the little part of the engine that popped up.
Mimpy's biggest claims to fame, aside from being ridiculously old, were that she liked to eat fruit (apples and pears) and that she had the most beautiful green eyes flecked with amber. Dragon eyes. Probably some of the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.
Mimpy passed away last night, likely in her sleep. My mom found her in the little cat condo (three door with insulation and a heated blanket).
Twenty (ish) years. Not bad for a cat. It is a little difficult for my brain to process the idea of her not being there since she's been there almost as long as I can remember. I remember getting her, but I don't really remember much of the time before she was around. So it will be strange going home to my parent's house and not having her trot out to meet me, meowing to be loved.
Again, we've had lots of cats, with varying personalities and not all of them have been perfect. However, Mimpy really was pretty wonderful. The wimpiest of cats to begin with, but entirely focused on loving and being loved in the end. That's all she wanted. Just as much love as you had time to give her.
She'll be missed now that's she's gone, but she'll also never be forgotten!