In time of need, Chuckey the cat came through, again and again
By Brunhilde Spaulding Special to The Acorn

JANN HENDRY/Acorn Newspapers SOFT TOUCH- Chuckey the cat shows some of his special tenderness to children visiting him at the Agoura Animal Shelter in 2005, before he was adopted by Brunhilde Spaulding. During his lifetime, Chuckey exhibited an uncanny sensitivity to humans. The children pictured are Juliana Bilaver, then 6 years old, and Nikayla Pavlas, then 2 years old.

My precious cat, Mozart, had disappeared. I raised him from a handful to a frisky feline that was loaded with energy, playful and oh, so beautiful to look at.

My waiting for Mozart to come home was to no avail. Hoping that some kind soul may have found him and turned him in at the local animal shelter, I also searched there, calling his name. No Mozart.

As I was sitting on the bench in the cat adoption room, having my own pity party, a gray-and-white cat with soft hair jumped in my lap, rubbing his little face against my chest, pleading with me to take him home.

Even though it was not my original idea to get a new pet right then, this one was destined to go home with me. His name was Chuckey. He was 10 years old. He became my constant companion, following me from room to room, sitting guard over me. At night he would nestle down in my arms and fall asleep.

Even though he was a most loving, perfect cat, he had one idiosyncrasy: He liked his breakfast served at 4 a.m. At that time sharp, he started crying, and oh, could he cry. His voice was high pitched and so demanding. First I decided to ignore him and teach him to be fed on my terms. My plan was unsuccessful. He screamed louder and louder. When this did not work, he placed his wet snoot in my ear and gave it his best trumpet tune. So much for my training. From then on, he got his morning morsels on first demand.

After he ate, he licked his lips and again got cozy in my arms. Now that he was happy again, his tummy full, he slept another couple of hours. When he awoke, he was ready to play. He began by pushing my hair off my face, softly stroking it and then washing it with his sandpaper-sharp tongue. I shielded my face, but that hurt Chuckey's feelings, and he let me know in his usual reprimanding voice when he didn't get his way. Regardless, I just loved these morning rituals.

Chuckey's nurturing quality was quite remarkable. He felt protective of all living creatures. Birds, mice, lizards and bugs were to be admired and not to be hurt in any way. He so much enjoyed watching them.

One sunny morning a lone mouse came wobbling by. Her belly was swollen with babies. When Chuckey spotted Ms. Mouse, he quickly jumped to action. He fell into step next to her, escorting her safely through the yard until she slipped away under the fence.

When I once lay down because of chest pain, Chuckey again jumped to action by resting his tiny body on my chest. A moment later the pain was gone. Chuckey hopped off to reward himself with a cool drink of water. I never needed to take the nasty medication for heart pain again. Whenever it struck, Chuckey was there to help out.

Then panic struck. My dear loyal friend had been diagnosed with kidney failure. For a while I administered IVs. Chuckey patiently accepted the needles, but then he became irritated and ran away when he saw me getting ready with his treatment. At that point, I stopped the fluids. When he began losing more and more weight, I surmised that his end was near. He died while I was holding him in my arms.

I thank God for providing us with such lovely cats, dogs and other pets to keep us company and comfort us during good times and bad.

I also want to express my appreciation to the animal shelters, especially the one in Agoura and its staff. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the wonderful, loving people who nurture and take care of God's creatures until some kind person comes and adopts them.

Brunhilde Spaulding lives in Oak Park