Sushel was given to me by my boyfriend in 1999, to ease the sorrow of my cat's passing, Grizetta. He was at the time, about 4 months old.
At first I was troubled to see that he refused to use the newspapers I would lay out for him in the bathroom and that he hadn't peed or pooed for 2 days. But then I bought a litter box and as soon as he saw it come into the house, he sprinted and stayed there for quite some time. I knew then that he considered himself something special.
He was totally deaf - I realized that a month later- but that turned out to be the best trait. He was so calm and peaceful that my friends at first thought he was a puppet! The bad side is that I couldn't allow him to go outside.
He always enjoyed overlooking everything we did...making sure we vacuumed the floor, dusting, changing the sheets. He was definitely the manager of the house!
He would go berserk with rays of light that reflected off kitchen cabinets and french windows, pushing the doors so that he could watch the lights dance. Everything was a game to him, everything that moved.
He know how to find the warmest spot of the house. But he would occasionally fall in love with the weirdest place to nap: my laptop, the game console, inside a reclining chair, on the printer feeder, on the top of the kitchen cabinets, inside closets, on a specific chair and for the last year, a purple tv blanket. He would sleep on it wherever it was and how small or bundled or curled or folded it was. It was his.
In the morning he knew exactly when we stepped off the bed and shout to get out attention. He always greeted us - every time, even if a day, an hour, an afternoon had passed since he last saw us- by walking gracefully towards us, tail pointing up like a little question mark then the last steps would end in him falling on the floor with his belly up, front paws curled, ready for petting. He purred noisily all the time, everyday, when he saw us and particularly when he fell asleep with us on the couch for a siesta.
He hated my laptop. Simply couldn't understand why that thing would steal his favorite place. He would stay at my foot and poke me gently with his front paw, demanding attention making me put away the laptop. First a meow, then a poke.
He suffered when we left on vacation and wouldn't eat for the first couple of days. He was so attached to us it was uncanny.
He developed a cough for the last 3 years and all the vets diagnosed a cold/flu/bronchitis. But then I went to another vet who diagnosed fatal cardio deficiency and thyroid issues. After a brief improvement of one month, he fell hard. His breath was rapid, his heart raced, he refused to eat anything and was visibly tired, too tired to get up. So a week passed, we treated him with cortisone, diuretics, heart regulators, antibiotics but just couldn't take it. Thank god he only suffered for a week of shallow breathing, pulmonary edema, a temperature of only 34-35 C (93-94F), heart racing, forced feeding and injected medication.
We put him to sleep Sunday night, he passed at 12 1/2 years old, as we held him in our arms, still feeling us, feebly purring with his minimal breath and paws curling like kittens feeding. It totally broke my heart and the pain is too much for me, just thinking about him.