Cinder Nuth

Thursday June 13th, at 1:20 pm, with his loving parents standing at his side and holding onto him, Cinder passed away. For the last six months or so (possibly longer) he and we have been fighting a battle against what his vet now believes was either FIP or lymphoma complicated by feline herpes. Many of you know this already as we've been updating you every now and then on our challenges. We had hoped to be able to have someone out to our house tonight so that he could pass away in his home with his sister here too, but he just went downhill too fast and the in-house service wasn’t available soon enough. Thank you to Granville Veterinary Clinic for helping us out so graciously and beautifully in our hour of need.

But that's not what I want to focus on with this post. I want to tell you about Cinder the cat, brother to Ella, man of mystery and detective extraordinaire. Cinder and Ella were about a year and a half old when we adopted them from PetPromise, Inc.. They were rescued from a hoarding situation and had been living with a foster mom for about half a year. When we went into her house to visit with them, Ella greeted us at the door, her usual outgoing self. Cinder, on the other hand, was laying on the back of the couch and barely acknowledged me when I pet him, so deep asleep was he. We soon discovered that he was an extremely easygoing cat who wanted sleep, sun, and food more than anything in the world. His sister has fur like soft fluff, but he had fur like smooth satin. I could tell even in the dark most of the time which cat jumped on the bed just by touching their fur.

Cinder's eyes were a beautiful golden yellow, but every now and then they would turn a shade closer to orange. When that happened, we would say that he had been "away with the faeries." Indeed, there were many times that we would search the whole house for him and not find him anywhere, only to have him reappear around a corner like nothing had happened. (Usually when he heard us open the treat cupboard.)

One time he really did disappear and after searching and searching, I was starting to panic. Calling his name, I heard the quietest meow coming from what seemed to be inside our hvac ducts. Frantically, I ran to the basement and started calling for him, looking up at the ducts. I found where he had jumped from a pile of storage bins into a little nook between a duct and the support beams. He jumped up, but couldn't figure out how to get back down. The detective met his match.

Cinder liked to sit on top of the heating vents in winter time to get as much warmth from them as possible. If you had a heating blanket on, then forget it. Your lap was full of cat. Although he sometimes sat on both mom and dad's lap, mom's lap covered with some sort of warm fuzzy blanket was his favorite spot in the house. Since I am a writer, sometimes I'd be trying to work on a project on my laptop, and Cinder would have none of it. He'd climb onto my chest and stick his bum in my face until I moved whatever was in the way of his beloved lap.

Cinder wasn't mute, but he almost never meowed, and virtually never loudly. Because of his silence, his sister often would whisper meow too in imitation. Although he never meowed, he would sometimes do little vibrating trill songs, almost like a bird, when he wanted something or was happy. And the thing he wanted almost always was food. He loved food so much, and never let you forget it. Sitting on the couch and eating any sort of food he might want meant that he would jump up on the back of the couch and soon his face would be next to yours as he swiped with his paw at your hand to get the food. We reprimanded him for it sure, but there were more than a few times when he ran away with a full piece of some meal that we'd have to run after him and get back.

Tom enjoyed taking him on trips around the house in his arms. He'd carry him from window to window and ask questions like "what's that out there?" to which Cin would respond with a silent meow. He'd let him rub his face against objects he normally couldn't reach. He loved to investigate everything.

Cinder almost never protested being held. In fact, when we first got him his foster mom told us that he preferred to be held like a baby on his back. We didn't believe her until we tried it, and she was right. Eventually he outgrew this, but she told us a story about how he had been baby Jesus in a church play before we got him, because he was so docile while being held he was the perfect choice.

Cinder also enjoyed short trips outside to the back yard, with mom or dad always just a few feet away from him. His favorite thing to do out there was to lay down on the stepping stones of the pathway through the back yard grass, and let the sun beat down on him. No amount of heat or sun was ever too much for him. He loved being warm, being comfortable, being held, and being belly-full.

Cinder Nuth was like no other cat before or since. I will intensely and heart-deep miss the clicking sound of his one dew claw on the wood floors that always let me know he was coming. I'll miss his signature lurching purr, the heft of his body fully sprawled on mine. I'll miss holding my hand in place so that I can elevate his neck (he always loved to sleep with his head elevated somehow.) I'll miss Mr. Cin so incredibly much. So will Tom. So will his sister.

That is all. If you have pets, please give them some love tonight. And I wouldn't object to a lit candle or two. I plan to leave an offering for the faeries. I hope they treat him well, and tell him that we love him always.