Monday, April 2, 2012

In Memory of Sugarbear

"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened. "
(Anatole France)
Sugar, 2010

Not much is known about the early life of Sugar. I adopted her in 2002 from a friend of a friend of a friend, who was going to return her to the shelter where she was originally found. Not then a big "cat person," but also not wanting a little creature to go spend her life in a cage or be put to an early death, I took Sugs, then known as "Vegas," into my apartment, and into my heart.

Sugar was not a very demanding cat, as many cats can be. If I stayed away from home too long she would yell at me when I got back, and if she needed some crunchies in her food bowl she might speak up, but other than that, all you'd ever hear from her was a nice, warm, loving purrr. She was a phenomenal purrr-er. If cats got paid for their purrring abilities, Sugar would have been a very wealthy feline.


She loved drinking out of her mugs

Over the years, Sugs became quite the little traveler - living with me in at least 4 different places in Pennsylvania, 2 different apartments in San Pedro, and eventually here with me in Alta Vista. I remember watching her check out each new home with caution and curiosity, and she was quickly able to find a cozy spot, wherever we were.

She was often seen napping in warm spots of sunshine and chewing on blades of grass. She enjoyed exploring the outdoors, but seemed equally content just being at home, close to her humans. She loved playing with string and shoelaces, trashballs, catnip filled toys, bugs and snakes, and anything else that wiggled around in front of her.



I could tell that she loved me by the way she would always follow me into whichever room I was spending time in, just to be close-by, and I hope she knows how much she meant to me. Going through normal up and downs of life, it's nice to have a furry friend around to make you feel a little better.

The final week of Sugar's life was filled with lots of attention, affection, and love while she battled her illness. (Possible bug/scorpion bite?) I like to believe that she wasn't in too much pain, as she continued to purrr every day when I spent time stroking her soft fur and trying to keep her comfortable.

Known affectionately as Sugar, Sugs, Sugarlicious, Boogity, Woogers, Queen Boogula, B.D Wong, Little Black-nosed bear, Bigfatbutt, and many other nick-names, she will be sadly missed by both her human friends, and her adopted feline siblings, Muffin and Bubby.


Final resting place in the foothills of the Maya Mountains, with plenty of sunshine.

April 2, 2012






8 comments:

  1. So sad. You are an awesome writer.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Aw, thanks. It was easy to write abuot her, I probably could've gone on and on about how awesome she was.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Remembering you with kitties on Crown St. Sorry for your loss - she was lucky to have chosen you as her "person". And love the Anatole France quote

    ReplyDelete
  4. Aw, thank you - I still miss her a lot :(

    ReplyDelete
  5. This is a poem by actor Jimmy Stewart about his dog named Beau. Yes, I know that Sugarbear was a cat and not a dog, but I thought the sentiments were appropriate.

    "Beau"

    He never came to me when I would call
    Unless I had a tennis ball,
    Or he felt like it,
    But mostly he didn't come at all.

    When he was young
    He never learned to heel
    Or sit or stay,
    He did things his way.

    Discipline was not his bag
    But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
    He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
    And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.

    He bit lots of folks from day to day,
    The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
    The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
    He said we owned a real man-eater.

    He set the house on fire
    But the story's long to tell.
    Suffice it to say that he survived
    And the house survived as well.

    On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
    He was always first out the door.
    The Old One and I brought up the rear
    Because our bones were sore.

    He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
    What a beautiful pair they were!
    And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
    They created a bit of a stir.

    But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
    And with a frown on his face look around.
    It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
    And would follow him where he was bound.

    We are early-to-bedders at our house.
    I guess I'm the first to retire.
    And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
    And get up from his place by the fire.

    He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
    And I'd give him one for a while.
    He would push it under the bed with his nose
    And I'd fish it out with a smile.

    And before very long
    He'd tire of the ball
    And be asleep in his corner
    In no time at all.

    And there were nights when I'd feel him
    Climb upon our bed
    And lie between us, And I'd pat his head.

    And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
    And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
    And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
    And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
    and I think I know the reason why.

    He would wake up at night
    And he would have this fear
    Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
    And he'd be glad to have me near.

    And now he's dead.
    And there are nights when I think I feel him
    Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
    And I pat his head.

    And there are nights when I think
    I feel that stare
    And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
    But he's not there.

    Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
    I'll always love a dog named Beau.

    ~ Jimmy Stewart ~

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Awww, man. That was sweet.
      Makes me miss every pet I've ever loved :(

      Delete
  6. If you Google "Beau Jimmy Stewart" it pulls up a video of him reading the poem on the Johnny Carson show ... it will bring a tear to your eye. It's very touching.

    ReplyDelete