A Bit Belated.... In Memory of Ptah

It was too difficult to write about at the time, but on December 9th we had to say goodbye to our handsome "boy boy" Ptah. He had been with me for the past 14 years, and because he decided that Bruce met the criteria, also accepted him as part of the family 4 years into our previously blissful bachelor/ette lifestyles. He was named after an Egyptian God charged with the task of protecting artists. Considering that I was attending an art school and lived with two other artists, I figured we could use some protection. I'd say he did his job perfectly.


His spirit was mighty, even if it turned out his body was allergic to fleas, had hay fever, and easily developed urinary tract infections and blockages. (Sounds almost as dramatic as most artists I know... He also loved lace and looked great in red, but that's probably getting a bit more personal than he would have wanted me to get here...) There was a time when he ended up in the kitty ER at 2 AM, after having peed on a leather briefcase of mine that at 16 years of age had cost me my entire summer's savings and then some. We returned home after an agonizing couple of hours of poking, needles and a catheter which he indignantly ripped out within the first 6 hours. Since that first devastating(ly expensive) night, many more times of attempting to administer medicine and collect urinary samples followed. If you have never tried either of these delightful activities with a cat, consider yourself blessed.

At one point, we lived on the posh Palm Avenue in Sarasota, FL in a historic building, formerly a hotel that held within its walls the secrets of some famous Hollywood actors and actresses, sharing a container of yogurt each morning, overlooking the magnificent blue waters that connected to the Gulf of Mexico. Life was perfectly peachy. But I imagined he might have been a bit lonely.


Thus entered "the other cat". She actually just happened to find me while I was downtown one night - clearly not old enough to be out on her own at that hour. She followed me to my car and rolled up to sleep behind the right front tire. She was coming home with me. I did the responsible pet owner thing and separated the two while giving them a chance to "get to know one another". I had an indoor window that overlooked the sun room from my bedroom and I thought that having the new kitten in the bedroom would be a great way to allow Ptah to have the rest of the apartment while being able to see and sniff the newcomer. That is how I left it when I took off for work. I got home to an apartment that looked as if the FBI had been through in hopes of the largest drug bust in Florida's history. The window had somehow been pried open. Pillows, vases, dining room chairs, table cloths, candle holders, shoes, rugs and other miscellaneous belongings of mine were scattered about. The two cats were sound asleep, next to each other, on the couch. Ptah, meet Shu - Shu, meet Ptah. Glad they figured that one out.

After that came the many moves, a few boyfriends and even a fiance (whom Ptah NEVER liked, by the way. Why oh why didn't I listen to him and save myself 2.5 years?!)

Finally, there was Bruce. One evening, after climbing into bed while waiting for me to shower Bruce all of a sudden hollered at me and told me he felt somewhat uncomfortable. He said "my cat" was staring at him, with uncomfortable intensity, with his tail feverishly swooshing back and forth. I don't recall exactly how the two of them resolved it that evening but in the end Bruce stayed and they quickly became each others biggest fans.

For the past several years, I don't recall having dried my hair without Ptah quickly running into the bathroom at the sound of the drier, hopping on to the counter and loudly demanding a headbutt. Or Bruce being able to turn on the fan by his bedside without Ptah instantly showing up and curling up his nose practically touching the fan. Or us having a pile of fresh laundry or an empty suitcase somewhere without him crawling into it for a comfortable afternoon nap.

The endless moments of companionship and joy he brought were perhaps only paled by his final gift to me. I had never before this faced saying goodbye to a dear four-legged friend. Somehow, all the other pets in my life had come and gone without my being able to say bye and honor their significance in my life. Ptah left this earth with the same class and dignity he lived. He wasn't about to slip out while I was gone on a trip, or through some emergency situation in a fluorescent light-filled veterinarian office somewhere where I would have needed to make a decision about his life under great duress. He made it clear when it was time for him to go, and he was going to hold us to that one last agreement. He had given us a lifetime of joy. We owed him a peaceful exit. So, while he was at home, resting next to his fan and being gently stroked by us, the relief finally came in the form of a veterinarian who had the dubious honor of meeting us for the first time under these circumstances.


Thank you for everything, Ptah. I will hold you and your little habits in my heart for all time.