2000 - 2011
Family: Lisa Heineck
I lost you on December 9th, 2011. And while I know you know all that is in my heart, some of it I feel needs to be said. I know I had warning, I should have been prepared, but the heart acts on its own accord. It did the first day we met. Maybe it was fate, or a lining up of the same soul. Not quite a cat, no longer a kitten at three years old. An all white cat with eyes of green-blue. Those beautiful green-blue eyes that a camera could never seem to capture the way my memory can. As I walked around the Humane Society, you circled the front of your cage and kept your gaze on me the whole time through, you picked me and you knew I was going to choose you. I brought you home as Patriot, but you came to be known as Casper, but your pet names you never failed to answer to: Big Daddy, Casper Elijah, Handsome, Good Looking, Caspy, Momma’s Boy and Bubbie.
You had a habit of knowing when I was sad or sick. You would sit on my chest and knead and purr my problems away. You intuitively knew when I wanted you in my arms or to sit in my lap. You walked in the room with such compassion and grace and blinked so lovingly before you lay be my side or I held you in my arms.
You even came to love Smudge and eventually Dorothy Sue, too, who, when you first greeted them, you laid on your back with paws wide opened welcoming them to their new forever home. Never once did you hurt your sisters or me either.
I love you, my Casper. I loved how you used to silently greet me at the door, the way you’d curl on the bed at night, tail over nose or in the crook of my arm sometimes, or sleep on the computer monitor while I worked, mess up my papers, chase my fingers, let me blow in your ears, and scratch you until you purred. I miss how I had only to put my finger out and you would bring your head to it, placing my finger on that lovable white spot between those pretty green-blue eyes. I miss that outspoken little voice, the way you’d come when you were called or look at me stupidly when you didn’t, as if to say I am right here. I loved the way you used to soak up the sun. That curious nature watching the world go by from your window perch, the way you used to race up the stairs, a crazy boy possessed and forget why you went up there. You loved me for all my faults and then loved me more.
As I sit here writing your memoriam, I didn’t want to put you to sleep. And I knew the time was coming. It all happened so fast. It showed in your hobble and the lethargy. That final morning I saw you, I watched you not move more than from your resting spot to your food and water. Even though I feel I failed you, I know in my heart you knew I did the best I could for you and I love you for that.
Thank you for sharing and being in my life these past nine years. No other cat will ever compare. You are in my heart forever, in my memory and now here by my side in spirit. Rest in peace, my beloved Casper, until I see you again.