Remembering a Legend Part 3

First of all, credit where credit is due. Starting with the tribute posts, this blog has an assistant and editor. I quickly realized when I started trying to write these posts that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look at the pictures long enough to be able to put them in right without breaking down crying.

The mere WRITING of these posts has been daunting at best. So I spent a night thinking about what to do and who I could reach out to that would be willing and able to assist. Someone that not only did I know I could trust, but knew WordPress like the back of their hands. Someone that I trusted Curzon’s memories to and knew they would give the posts as much love as I was.

Two gorgeous long haired cats sleeping on a bed

Each one of these posts has taken days to write and publish. They’ve taken every bit of my energy. And since I’m sure that I’ll continue to have issues now and then, and I need to make sure I have someone in my corner that I trust with the blog, I’ve decided to make the addition permanent. Marjorie Dawson, if she so chooses, will be continuing on being my editor and “Marjjjjjjjjj…. help…. I can’t get this *** to work!” helper LOL.

I can’t thank her enough for all of the help she’s already provided. And the whisker left behind by Curzon only confirms feline approval for this decision and the initial decision to ask her to come along with me for the ride. Thank you for all your support all these years.

Now continuing on with Curzon’s story – intertwined with Nimbus.

I couldn’t have asked for a better daddy cat… especially for unequivocally being NOT the daddy!

Curzon and Jadzia posing gracefully as cats do, on a carpeted floor

Curzon was kept away from his sister before he got snipped, and she got pregnant in Iowa, long AFTER he got snipped. So there’s no way Jadzia had an incest child with the brother that sometimes she barely tolerated and other times couldn’t stand to be more than 2 paws away from!

I have often half-joked that Jadzia must have taken Curzon’s butt to the carpet and warned him that if he so much as ruffled a single strand of fur on Nimbus’ body she would make him pay for it – and trust me she would have! From the moment he was born, Curzon took care of Nimbus way more than any cat daddy normally does.

Two snuggling cats sleep on a sofa.

He put Nimbus back in the nest when he was still a blind little mouse looking kitten. He taught the boy how to slap fight and body slam. He kept that boy on his paws for sure. And Nimbus LOVED his “daddy” more than anything in the world, even his human daddy. The bond between the boys only grew and grew. But they rarely ever had a spat where they didn’t get along.

Curzon would tell you that I just lied, but he’d be the liar

I’m sure he would tell you how p*d off he was when Nimbus managed to get himself into a tiny cardboard tube that was way too tiny for the twins to get more than an arm into but was PLENTY long and big enough for month(ish) old Nimbus to walk right into, get to the middle, and lay down and I’m sure laugh his fur off at the twins feverishly trying to get to him!

Curzon would tell you that he got completely beat up by the boy, but Nimbus never so much as scratched his daddy.

Fur would fly, yes. Meows, growls… on both their parts, yes. And holy heck Nimbus was one heck of a scrapper, especially on his back. How he learned so brilliantly to fight on his back – which is totally antithetical to any style of cat fighting – I’m not sure. But he was a MASTER of it. He’d let ’em get close to that belly.

And then he owned the entire cat. Arms and head took care of the head and torso and those back feet had the other cat’s back end totally owned. He never hurt either of the twins, but holy heck, if he’d gotten into a fight with any other cat, Nimbus would’ve shredded them! That’s a true testament to Curzon’s quality of education.

Two cats 'chatting' on a windowsill in front of a white blind

The bond became very evident the first time we almost lost Nimbus. Curzon was a hot mess. He was mopey, just not happy to say the least, when I didn’t come right back home with the boy. Nimbus was NOT welcomed back with open paws by either of them when he finally DID come back home. He REEKED of vet after having spent several days hospitalized.

Curzon was the one that came around though in due time, but took time – months – for Curzon to get over it fully. Neither understood that Nimbus did NOT voluntarily leave on his own like that. Jadzia never really did fully forgive him I don’t think. Curzon did though eventually.

At the end it became PAINFULLY obvious how much those two were still bonded. When I first came home without Nimbus as I very, VERY reluctantly left him at the vet clinic so his vet could try to empty his lungs of fluid, I scooped up the CurryCat (another one of his many nicknames) and tried to tell him it would be okay.

But Curzon was BAWLING.

I’ve never seen a cat just pour tears like that before and I pray I never do again because it was HEARTBREAKING. It only made me cry more because BOTH of my boys were miserable. One was in grave physical danger and the other was an emotional disaster, and there was nothing I could do for EITHER of them.

The vet begged me to go home and get some rest, as I was intent on just sitting there holding the oxygen mask on Nimbus until she was ready to do her best to work magic on his lungs. Curzon, after that, really became the resident caretaker.

two beautiful longhaired cats sleeping on a pale coverlet.

Losing Nimbus was the hardest thing I’d gone through since 2001. I was overcome with self-doubt, pain, anguish, anger… you name it. But Curzon ONCE AGAIN got me AND his sister through it.

He ALWAYS took care of his sister.

Remembering a Legend Part 2

I’d say after the last post that “the rest is history” but a lot of you don’t know that history and there’s a lot of you who don’t know the earliest of days.

Today’s post also celebrates Rainbow Bridge Memorial Day.

I wish I could say that it was golden from there, but it wasn’t. Keep in mind we’re talking fall of 2001.

It’d been 9 or so months after my Mom’s passing, a couple months after 9/11 and my having to put my now ex boyfriend’s cat to sleep.

First struggles

I’d spent that morning in the vet hospital with him knowing Snowflake was dying – he was FIV+ and we’d just dragged him literally across the country and stress isn’t a good thing for weakened animals.

As I’d alluded to, I wasn’t in the best of place physically or emotionally but the twins came when I needed them most, whether I’d known it or not. I got to watch the twins grow up together.

  • I struggled with litter box training.
  • I struggled with hormones.
  • I struggled with a scaredycat with no confidence.
  • I struggled with a cat with no cares whatsoever.

Now let’s see who can figure out who was the scaredycat and who was the nonchalant cat with not a care in the world LOL…

Now let’s see who can figure out who was the scaredycat and who was the nonchalant cat with not a care in the world LOL…

Look, Ear!

Late that fall, I swear I woke up one morning and there were these ginormous monstrosities on Curzon’s head – like overnight he went from wee little baby kitty ears to these monstrous adult sized ears on this little tiny kitten head!

I swear those ears went over his big beady eyes and connected with each other on the tip of his nose! And yes, until his head got bigger, I tortured him a LOT with the peekaboo’s lol. What new crazy cat mama wouldn’t have?

Making a Move

The following spring, things went from bad to worse where I was at and it became glaringly obvious that, regardless of me, the kittens were NOT going to survive if I didn’t at least get THEM out of the situation we were in.

A lot of things had to happen, and a couple angels along the way made the miracle happen.

In the process of rescuing them, Curzon found us the best CatDaddy ever. I’d known him a long time, but well… Curzon’s inspection won the day. By the time he took all of us strays in and made us a legit family (LOL I know…) we had grown by 1… We had a teeny tiny 3 week old baby Nimbus!

And you Know What?

Curzon would turn out to be the BEST non-paternal daddycat EVER.

Three weeks

How has it been 3 weeks buddy?

I still have to remind myself sometimes.

A part of me still wants to throw your nip nanner…

I made you a promise weeks ago…

You picked me. You know to get my attention lol.

Promise your limp as heck nanner will not get chomped by anyone else LOL.

THANK YOU. For being the cat and soul that you are. You made this all happen, by finding your way to me.

I love you

Carl, c-biscuit, count chocula, chomps mcgillicutty, and all the other nicknames we gave you over the years.

Remembering a Legend

It’s been a rough couple weeks since Curzon left us. I’ve been fighting internally as to how to do his tribute.

It was so easy doing it with Jadzia and Nimbus comparatively. Nimbus’ life just lent itself to his, and Jadzia, while Queen, wasn’t as LOUD as Curzon (and I don’t just mean vocally, even though he was the gabby one). Curzon was – and always will be – a legend.

So instead of doing one big post for his birthday, which is just days away, and then his gotcha day. I’ve decided to give the Count the send-off he deserves: 6 weeks of posts celebrating his life as a fitting tribute to the life he lived, the work he did, and the memories he leaves behind.

Curzon wasn’t just a cat

Not to me, not to those who got to know him in the fur. He was my “man in a cat suit” and sometimes I swear his face looked almost human!

I always start his story by saying that I rescued him, plucked him off the streets, catnapped him right out of a dude’s hands… all of which are “technically” true.

But that only tells a small portion of the story. Yes, I rescued him and his sister off the streets as filthy, malnourished, flea-ridden, nearly dead (especially Curzon) kittens at about 6 weeks of age, but what goes UNsaid in that is in saving him…..

Curzon saved me

I was not in a good place in just about every way you can imagine. It was 2001 – the first year from hell. (The 2nd being this plague-ridden year, 2020 btw.)

I’d just lost my mom in January, then 9/11 – and spending that morning in the vet hospital with a dying cat, just to have to send him OTRB the following week. I was struggling, to say the least.

Then one day in mid-October, I go walking out into the kitchen as I hear these 2 guys discussing something the one had found. I wasn’t quite sure what I was hearing, as what I DID hear wasn’t making sense in my brain.

His ears were pretty terrible. Maybe it’s not so bad you can’t see them too well.

The Snatch Rescue

Grief fog is hell, as many of you will know. So I walk in, see the commotion and walk up to see what the ‘commotion’ is about.

There, in a red shop rag, is this teeny tiny filthy miserable little thing that BARELY even looked feline

There was no “let me see that” or even “gimme that cat” – nope, just a *snatch* right out of the guy’s hands and off to the bathroom we went.

An hour, who knows how many baths, and a LOT of sweat later, I called him as clean as he was going to get in that moment, and wrapped him up in a small towel.

If You Find Any More…..

I later told the guy that if he caught or saw any others, including mama, they were MINE just bring them to me or bring me to them. Needless to say, 2 days later, Curzon was reunited with his sister.

And that’s how it all began…


I’ve had several ask me how I’m doing. Honestly, I don’t even know. It’s a struggle. Slowly all the things that made it obvious he was here are going. It’s hard. Seeing his half limp nip nanner fang marks still in it is hard. He was a very special kid. There’ll be more pics to come.


Curzon’s ashes are back home. I have yet to put him with his sister and her son. He’s currently on the table he was CONSTANTLY getting up on and knocking things off of.

Ironic. I know. Partly the reason.


I never planned to write this post. I still don’t know how I will. But those of you who don’t follow us on Twitter or Facebook – or didn’t see the news – need to know. And I apologize in advance for taking so long but Tropical Storm Isaias has knocked out our power and I don’t even have 3g cell data most of the time and we won’t discuss the flood… don’t worry the home is dry.

Curzon had a really rough weekend. It started at the end of last week with his haunches getting weak. So of course I assumed arthritis – mind you his 19th birthday’s 9/1. I talked to the vet and she agreed we’d start him on Cosequin and go from there. My PLAN quickly became take him to his vet Monday afternoon, by Saturday night it was Monday morning. Saturday he was just acting WEIRD. Had I known…

Sunday he took a sudden turn for the worse. It started fine, but by late evening it was becoming apparent it was going to be a struggle to get him thru the next 8 hours. I decided I was staying up with him. Around 11 his front end started giving out. I’ve never seen a cat chest-plant. I put him into the bathroom to block off the kitchen so he wasn’t on tile. When I opened the door to let him out, he didn’t MOVE.

I scooped him up, let the CatDaddy know I was rushing him to the ER vet, called them as I was loading him up and headed there, intending on getting him on fluids and doing baseline bloodwork to see what we were getting into. I never intended….

Curzon passed away in my arms around 1am on Monday morning almost with no help from the vet. My best guess – and the ER vet agrees – was that he was having mini strokes and his last one as he laid in my arms when she walked out of the room to get the meds was my last sign that it was time and he could NOT wait.

Every last one of the kids has gone out on their own terms.
Nimbus perked up when they tranquilized him, demonstrating his stubborness.
Jadzia went out gripping my arm, demonstrating how much she loved me.
Curzon gave me the raspberries on the way out, demonstrating his ‘tude.

I am so sorry guys. I tried. I gave him every chance to hit 20. That was the plan. I had a big birthday planned for him next month. Now it’s all gone.

This blog will continue, about as much as it has since Jadzia left. I’ll still write now and then. I’ll do a true memorial post for the boy when I can – when I can look at the pics. This is the second-worst year of my life I think… the only one that’s worse is 2001.

If swear words offend you, please stop reading here.






A day in our life…


Hey mom, what were you trying to prove? That I have a long tail? I’m a CAT. I’m supposed to have a long tail. Just like I’m supposed to have fur – and lots of it!

Uhm, dude, not all cats have fur.

Is that why some humans dress their cats like they’re humans?

Eh, not so much. Sometimes though! Think about it… how cold would you be if you didn’t have all that fur on you?

If you even think so much as to…

Don’t worry dude your fur is safe! But some people really like the furless kitties! And some kitties really like wearing clothes!

And some kitties do as their humans tell them to do instead of the other way around like it’s SUPPOSED to be.

Dude, you really SHOULD listen to me more.

Oh I listen…

…And you don’t care… I know. It shows. But seriously dude.

Hey I eat as much as I can and I drink lots of water…

…and you’re constantly *****ing at your water!

Because it should be moving!

Last time we tried that you tried to knock it over!

It made weird noises!

I’m sorry I can’t put a river in the apartment. And yeah, I could get a fountain, but you can’t keep your food out of your water, so…


What? Truth hurt? Sorry… NOT sorry!

Humans… especially moms…