BORN: approx. 1 Sept. 2006
DIED: 8 Dec. 2007
On 30 Dec. 2006, I went to help out at Cause4Cats for a couple of hours. While I was there, Lolette asked me if I could foster a new kitten for a couple of weeks. He had been dumped at her place and she found him wandering the grounds, gave him shots and a name and so on. She said his name was Biblical and mean "a gift from god". My first instinct was to say no because I know how I am, but as soon as this adorable little guy reached out from the cage and grabbed me with his claws, I knew I was doomed. The two weeks passed and I knew I had to keep him.
He was a beautiful cat. I loved his pale orange coloring, his elfin face and slanted eyes.
Zeb was ferociously intelligent. Too intelligent for my own good, as the saying goes. He only tolerated one night in a cage here and he wanted OUT. He explored the entire office in about ten minutes, by which time he owned the place. There were the the usual hissy-fits by some of the other moggies, but all in all, he was accepted quickly.
I became concerned by the time he was about nine months old because he had barely grown. He was always desperately hungry and ate lots of food, yet I could never get any weight on him. In spite of that, he was full of energy, bouncing off the walls when food time came.
He was deeply affectionate, sweet-tempered and loving, one of the most loving cats I've ever known. Zebedee would spend as much time as he could in my lap. When Randy came into my office, Zebedee couldn't wait to get onto his shoulders where he would ride around and nuzzle Randy's ear. As soon as I would sit down on my stool to clean the cat boxes, he would race into my lap and nuzzle my face.
Sadly, around November of 2007, it becamse obvious that something more serious was wrong. Zebedee was getting thinner in spite of all the special food I would feed him. A work-up at the vet's suggested FIP (Feline Infectious Periotnitis). A month later, he had declined even more. He had lost yet more weight (and he was barely over 6 lbs. to begin with), had lost his bouncy energy, and developed a serious respiratory infection. Another set of test results showed that he continued to be anemic, had a fever and the two FIP tests led the vet to conclude that it was 95% certain he had the dry form of FIP. This meant he didn't have much time left.
Looking at his condition, knowing it was hopeless, and hearing how hard it was for him to breathe, I made the unhappy decision to have him put to sleep without waiting for things to get even worse.
He was a bright little spirit, a unique and wonderful being. Though he was only with me for a year, he sunk his claws deep into my heart and there's a huge hole left now that he is gone.