He showed up one day early in May 2010 (just a few days before AJ received her official match with Miriam), peering into the house through the sliding glass door out back. Out of more than 720 houses in the neighborhood, he knew which one to go to. Mom & Dad see apparently homeless cute kitty, Mom & Dad invite cute kitty in, Mom & Dad feed cute kitty chicken and a little milk and try to talk themselves out of keeping cute kitty.
Deciding that maybe it wasn't the right time, Mom & Dad took cute kitty to the county shelter... until 3-4 days later, when the shelter calls to say cute kitty is really sick and may be euthanized because of it. Our folks being the people they are, they immediately told the staff to wait, drove to the shelter, and took cute kitty to the vet who the family had been working with for a few years with other assorted four-footed family members.
It turned out that he was indeed a very sick little kitty, but the vet was able to save him and our folks decided it would be unwise to fight the Cat Distribution System so Tigger became a member of the family.
We joked about how Miriam wasn't our only adoptee, and carefully introduced her to Tigger shortly after she came home. She indicated her acceptance of her four-legged semi-sibling by licking him. (Yes, you read that right, it wasn't the other way 'round. <g>)
Tigger quickly learned when it was good to be around the Pipsqueak and when it was best to find a quiet corner to hide in for a while, and just like the old stories say, everybody got along famously. There was that one time she tried to paint him with chocolate ice cream, but he did seem to (eventually) forgive her.
We all settled into our family patterns, with Tigger occasionally getting paws or tail accidentally stepped on, but for years he was just another member of the family. He'd greet us at the door, especially if we came in through the garage, and each of his humans had a particular type of scritching he liked them -- and usually no one else -- to do. (For me it was the under chin/base of ear scritch/rub; Miriam's assigned role seemed to be to scritch between his ears and shoulders.)
It wasn't long before we also learned how intelligent this little feline was. He'd whack your foot if he wanted attention, and if that didn't work he'd whack your leg. If Mom was late feeding him breakfast, he'd start playing with the metal drawer pull on a particular piece of furniture that made a bit of a racket, stopping only when Mom would head for where his food was kept. If he got hungry during the day, he quickly learned that whacking one particular kitchen cabinet with a loose door would produce a very satisfying drumming sound that his humans could not ignore -- and would continue until he got at least a snack. And he always somehow knew, even if I prepared his carrier the night before and left it in the garage, when I was stopping by to take him to the vet and he would disappear somewhere in the house, often avoiding discovery & capture by as much as 45 minutes while the entire family would search for him on hands & knees. (He was also very polite; when fed, he'd run to his bowl and stick his face in & start chowing down... then stop, walk over to whoever had fed him, and do a little thing that person's foot with both his front paws to say "thanks" before running back to his bowl and stuffing his face.)
Around the time Dad started to get sick, Tigger also started showing signs of declining health. The diagnosis was megacolon -- where the musculature of the colon literally stretches out too much to be able to squeeze out waste. Somehow, with help & advice from the vet and a few forays into "this med didn't work, maybe that one will" we got him through the crisis. From that point on, Tigger ate high fiber foods to which we'd add Miralax twice a day, and all was well.
After we lost Dad in 2023, Tigger became more of a companion for Mom. He'd be more underfoot during the day, and at night he'd wait for her to get into her recliner before jumping up to join her, pushing her around a bit to get his spot "just so" until he decided it was time to prowl again. Usually several times a night... which was annoying, but Mom was glad to have something else alive in with her in the otherwise empty house.
Sometime in 2024, we noticed an odd growth on Tigger's neck, right under his collar. Concerned for his saftety & comfort, we took him to the vet and the growth turned out to be cancerous. It, along with another they found (that we'd missed) were removed, and after staying at the clinic overnight for observation, we brought Tigger home.
When Mom got sick in 2025 and spent the entire month of February in one or another facility, Tigger was pretty much left to his own devices. I would visit at least twice a day, making sure he had food and fresh water, and tried to spend a little extra time talking with him. I could see a change in Tigger's behavior; by the end of the month, he'd become really clingy, asking to be picked up & held much more than ever before. When Mom finally got back home, it was several evenings before he returned to his old habits, choosing instead to bother her for much longer periods many more times each night.
There were more problems developing late last year, and early this year Mom & I had to run Tigger over to an emergency clinic. They saved him (barely), but we think he was injured in the process; he never walked quite the same, and literally never just sat down (he always ended up laying on his side) after he came back home. He still welcomed each person's assigned scritches and pets, and was happy to eat again... although now his meals were a much more expensive specialized food for older cats with GI tract problems.
He also absolutely loathed the painkiller that had been prescribed, but had some real problems moving around without it so we returned to our old vet for a checkup. That's when we discovered that Tigger was again having some megacolon-related problems, but was also showing signs of other problems we hadn't seen before. We got a new pain control drug and some new guidelines, and took him back home.
(NOTE: After doing a bunch of research, I'm sad to say that literally every drug used for pain control in cats is also toxic to cats. There's one new drug that's hard to get hold of that probably isn't, but studies are still underway... but anything else you give them is toxic. For an alpha predator, cats are amazingly fragile and hard to treat.)
There was another visit a few weeks later, and despite eating well Tigger had lost more weight, and was showing signs of muscle atrophy. We discussed different possible causes, different meds, and so on, then took Tigger home.
The problems (including an occasional seizure, which was scary as all get-out to watch) continued so it wasn't long before we took Tigger back to the vet again... and he'd lost a surprising amount of weight. A disturbing amount of weight. So much so that the vet spent some time going over possible causes with us, and asked if we'd authorize an X-ray to check Tigger's heart. Of course, Mom said "yes" immediately.
The results were heartbreaking. Tigger's heart could not be clearly imaged because both lungs were partially opaque to X-rays due to rapidly spreading lung cancer. The images also showed that almost all Tigger's body fat was gone, consumed by the ravenous cancer taking over his lungs. The vet gave us some more of the pain control meds that worked, admonishing us "Not for much longer" and we took Tigger home.
Tigger had not been able to sit normally since coming back from the emergency clinic. It had been almost two months since he could jump onto the sofa, bed, or Mom's recliner. It had been over a month since he was able to climb the short distance into the bay window to sit in his favorite sunny spot. It had been weeks of watching him sometimes go stiff and fall over. It had been weeks of watching him walk a short distance, then stop and either stand unsteadily in place or flop down on his side, breathing heavily.
AJ & Miriam came over to the house on Sunday, and each took some time saying goodbye to Tigger alone, and then as a family. Then, earlier today, we took Tigger to the vet.
We did not bring him home.
Tigger spent the day getting little blobs of mayonnaise, his favorite of favorites. He got quite a lot of it, actually, since neither Mom nor I knew the other was doing that (as if it mattered). I tried to get a pawprint with some polymer clay, but he wasn't exactly happy to help. Then I picked him up, put him in his carrier (with an extra pad on the bottom), and loaded him into the car. They were ready for us at the veterinary hospital, where we learned Tigger had lost even more weight. Instead of being his usual annoyed self and presenting his butt to me until it was time to go home, he stayed near the opening of the carrier and was happy to have me scritching him under his jaw & ear.
After some discussion and a couple of transactions (so we could just walk out when we were ready), the vet gave Tigger a sedative and the tech brought in some thick, fuzzy blankets that we laid him on & covered him with. He never fully fell asleep, but about 15 minutes later Tigger was quietly dozing as the vet shaved one of his legs, found the right vein, and gave him one last injection. We talked to Tigger & stroked him as the breathing that had become so labored over the previous week slowed and stopped, and he was gone.
My good buddy Tigger, champion catcher of crickets and mice, forgiving play pal of a very young Pipsqueak, purring late night companion to Mom when she got lonely, was a little over 17 years old (somewhere in his late 80s in human years).
I'll remember you, buddy. And miss you. We all do.
