The Cat from Cat's Eye: In Memory of the Nuz

No blog post has been harder to write than this one. But I have my kleenex close by. So here goes.

 A pet is hard to lose.

 A pet that showed up at a special time in your life is very hard to lose.

 We called him the Great White Cat. His name was Nuz.

He would have been mortified if he knew that it was short for Nuzzle. We named him that because he would stand on his hind legs like a pony and give us strong head butts until we thought he was going to knock us over.

 Extreme nuzzles.

 

How Nuz found us

Some of you have heard the story. Bear with me because I need to tell it one last time.

It was April 1993 in Ocean Shores, Washington. Bob and I were giddy with excitement. We had spent hours and hours thinking of a name for the graphic design business we had just created.

We had scribbled dozens of ideas on post-it-notes and pressed them on the white board. The notes stuck, but none of the names did.

Until Bob turned to me and said, "Cat's Eye."

The cat's eye conjured up the ability to focus, attention to detail, curiosity about new things—everything that would make a design company sharp.

It was decided. Cat's Eye it would be.

Just hours later, in the midst of a wild spring storm, through the sound of the wind and pelting rain, I heard a faint cry. I opened the patio door and there was a tiny, frail, soaking wet, white kitten, shaking violently.

I brought him inside, dried him off and turned him around. It was then that I saw the cat's eyes. One was green and the other blue. It was a sign. 

He was all kinds of sick. Fleas. Worms. And an upper respiratory infection that left him on IVs for two days.

But he was spunky and he survived.

Quirky Nuz

He was quirky, this cat. It was as if he had searched for us because he knew he would fit right in.

He was several animals in one and could take on the personality of each. Kind of like a writer does.

Early on, when he jumped up on our bed, we learned that if we threw a small object, say a wrapped cough drop, he would fly through the air, catch it in his mouth, trot back up to us and drop it. Then came the stare that meant, "Throw it again. Please throw it again."

He learned the command, "In position!" and when one of us would say it, he would scramble to the end of the bed and sit up, at attention, waiting for us to throw it again.  

He could fetch. He was a dog.

Sometimes he would jump up on the bed in the middle of the night and we would hear a plop. It was Pépe, his furry purple hand puppet. He had carried him in with his mouth, fully expecting us to play.

Other times he would scale our stone fireplace that went from floor to ceiling—without the harness a climber uses. He was a mountain goat.

He climbed to the top of our Christmas tree one year and knocked it over. Okay he was just being himself that time. Bad cat.

For a few months, our daughter's cat Alex stayed with us. Not exactly the perfect role model, he showed Nuz how to pull food from the cupboards and refrigerator. 

One day after Alex was gone, we came home to a mess. Nuz had climbed up onto the kitchen counter, opened the cupboard and dragged an opened bag of potato chips onto the floor. Bad cat.

He loved cantaloupe and corn and Pudding Pops. Yes, he was a little weird.

He had great taste in music. We moved three times with him and the only thing that would calm him down in the car were the sounds of James Taylor, BB King or Pavarotti.

 

Business partner Nuz

He was the Cat's Eye mascot from day one and took on the role with class.

He was in our print ads. In one, he was sprawled out on the carpet on his side. The ad's headline said, "Relax. Cat's Eye will take care of it."

He was fascinated by the fax machine and waited by it, as if he was our assistant, watching the paper until it finally came through on the other side. Never could quite teach him to bring us the fax, though. Sometimes he got tired of watching and would fall asleep.

The press loved him. In 2000, when Cat's Eye won the Best in the Northwest Family Business of the Year award, his photo was on the big screen as the master of ceremonies told the story of our name, and of Nuz. A day later, he was in The Puget Sound Business Journal.

He was unimpressed.

 

The day that was different

Monday, November 2, was a typical day. Except, come to think of it, for a week or so, Nuz had been spending more time on our bed at night. More than he usually did.

That night, he left for his own soft bed in the living room at 10.

At 2:30 Tuesday morning, a strange crinkling noise woke me up. I turned on the light and there was Nuz, pawing at the cover of the New Yorker magazine I had left on the floor.

He didn't look right. I pulled him onto the bed. He couldn't stand up. His eyes were dark.

I wrapped him in the soft UW Huskies blanket he loved and called the vet hospital. Our problem:  the first ferry from the island to the mainland didn't leave until 6:30.

When I described the symptoms, the woman on the other end of the phone, said,

"Wrap him in a blanket. Turn the lights down low and hold him."

I did. He died in my arms at 4:45am, Tuesday, November 3.

He wasn't destined to catch the 6:30 ferry.

I like to think that he managed to somehow make it to our bedroom that night because he wanted to tell us that he was leaving us. And because he did that, I got to spend his last two hours with him.

He was a good cat.

Rest in peace, sweet Nuz.

 1993 - 2009. 

Comments

[Kellye Rowland]

I remember when he used to climb that rock wall in Ocean Shores. I couldn't believe it! Nuz will be forever missed and I miss him too. Hugs *teary smile*
PS: I think of the Rainbow Bridge poem now, and picture him running and playing with Gracie and opening refrigerators daily with Ali Baba...:)

[Robbie Schlosser]

Hi Judy,

So sorry for your loss, but you wrote a beautiful post. What a wonderful tribute to a dear friend! It's small consolation, but time always heals.

By the way, on another note, I love exploring your blog. So many gems!

[Sandra]

Such a loss, but what a wonderful life. Animals amaze me - with their ability to feel and express, with such passion + urgency. How lucky was Nuz to have had you both for a lifetime, and how blessed you were to have him choose you.

[Judy Dunn]

@Kellye: I forgot. You were a witness to the stone wall scaling, too. And yes, Alex (AKA Ali Baba), who is gone now, too, is likely opening refrigerators right now.

@Robbie: Boy, it's so great to hear from a new reader. Thank you for your kind words. And for the compliment.

@Sandra: He did have a wonderful life. I think it's true. Sometimes animals choose us.

[carl]

Judy, I can't tell you how sorry I am.

I am glad that Nuz did have his last few hours in loving arms.

He is lucky to have his memory immortalized by such a great person and writer as yourself.

[Judy Dunn]

Carl,

Thanks for reading. I have a deep need to tell people about my amazing friend. Somehow it lessens the blow of the loss.

Your comment means a lot. Thanks for that, too.

[Veronica Sopher]

Judy,

Thank you for sharing the story of Nuz. He will live on in the great work you and Bob do.

[Judy Dunn]

Veronica,

Thank you. Just knowing that I can tell this story to my friends and that they understand makes such a difference.

Judy

[Maya]

Judy,

This is so touching. What a beautiful post - thank you for sharing Nuz with us.He is happy and grateful to have had you, I am sure. Nuz was also very happy to have been held the last few hours, I am sure.

We have a dog and a cat too (just lost our second dog). Our cat is very much a dog too - he fetches, sits and jumps - I smiled while I read that part about Nuz :)

So sorry for your loss, but so grateful for the beauty, friendship and connections that our pets let us experience and discover. That is something Nuz and you will AWLAYS have.

[mike young]

Great story Judy, thank you for sahring, cats are wonderful and they all seem to have very unique ways of living with us all. Nuz's story made me laugh, i understand more of you loss.

Mike Young

[Judy Dunn]

@Maya: What a kind and sensitive response. Sounds like your cat has some of the traits that made Nuz so special. Cats often seem to have very unique personalities, I've found.

@Mike: Thanks for reading and leaving a comment. I'm glad I made you laugh because he did his best to make us laugh all those years. And he usually did.

[Jen Vondenbrink]

Judy
Thank you for the post. Although I heard how Nuz came into your life, now I know more about him and his wonderful life with you.

It's very special when our pets pick us to share their lives with. You and Bob were blessed. Good night Nuz.

[Judy Dunn]

Thanks, Jen.

My mom always said that he chose us. And that he gave us so much love because he was grateful that we saved him that cold, blustery day he showed up on our patio. She might be right about that.

[Jan Richards]

I'm so sorry.

He was beautiful, and clearly, so loved.

The loss of a pet is a big loss. They wrap themselves around your hearts more than you even realize before they're gone.

[Judy Dunn]

Jan,

Thank you for the beautiful words. It's been so incredible hearing from people, even strangers, who understand what it means to lose a part of your family.

Knowing that others have been through it and come out on the other side helps.

[Bill Doerr]

Dear Judy and Bob --

I just read about Nuz's passing. I am crying. For you both and because I've also lost my family members -- my cats. It is never easy. Your loss is real. Your pain is great. I understand.

As I read the miraculous story of how your sweet Nuz came into your lives and then cared to share the last few hours of his life with you I know you know you were so loved by a most regal being . . . your Nuz.

How lucky you were to be deemed worthy by Nuz. That tells me more about you than any test you take with a paper and pencil!

My thoughts and love and with all three of you.

Again, I am so sorry for your loss. Time will help heal your pain . . . but grieving now is normal and necessary.

Your Nuz was a wonderful feline being. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet Nuz. I'm so glad that you did.

Bill

[Michelle Hesse]

First I have to say thank goodness I had a box of Kleenex next to my desk! You wrote a beautiful post!
As a fellow cat lover (right now I have 4 -but I have lost count of how many I have had in my life!) I feel your loss and my thoughts are with you. But how special that he came to tell you he was leaving. My last cat to leave me (it was 2 yrs ago now) hid under the recliner and I did not know anything happened until several hours later when he didn't come for his nightly can food dinner.
I'm not sure about your spiritual beliefs, but I do believe we will see our furry babies when we cross over and that keeps me going (and rescuing more! LOL)
Thank you again for sharing such a personal story.
PS- This is the first time I came to the website to read the blog...I usually just read the email newsletter. But I'm glad I did. :-)
Take care. Michelle

[Nancy Colson]

What a sweet and beautiful tribute to a very special and beloved cat. Thank you so much for telling the story of his life with you. As others have said, Nuz will live in your hearts and in your memories as a true and treasured friend. His was a life well lived.

[Judy Dunn]

@Bill: Wow. You understand the depth of the pain because you have been there, too. What comforting words. Thanks.

@Michelle: I know. I had always heard that cats go and hide somewhere to die alone. That's why this was so amazing—and special. I would love to think that we will see our pets again. Thanks for reading.

@Nancy: A life well-lived. For sure. Thanks for reading and leaving a comment, Nancy.

[Carol Edwards]

What a beautiful story about Nuz. It brought tears to my eyes. I have been through this so know how you're feeling right now. Hang in there as it will get easier. He was a special part of both your lives and will always hold a special place in your hearts.
Carol

[Judy Dunn]

Carol,

I know you have been through this and you know exactly how we feel. Your words mean a lot. Thanks for ready my story. Two comments from family so far!

[Beth Buelow]

What a heartfelt and beautiful story, Judy. Thank you for sharing your journey. He was a beautiful kitty, inside and out. What a gift he must have been to you . He's always in your heart!

[Judy Dunn]

Thanks for reading, Beth. They just find a way into our hearts, don't they?