The early years (the 80s):

Pick Me
Opus was born on or around Christmas of 1988. At the time, I was working at an alterations store in Oklahoma City called Mister Q's. The owner was a nice fella named Kelly Q'Ellar. He was a jazz drummer. One day in January, one his buddies came by the store with a box of kitties.
OK, a brief pause to talk about me. I was just out of college and had quit my job at Little Cesars Pizza where I had met my boyfriend/fiance Michael. For several months I took a job helping out at an alterations store. I had had my own kitty once, but I got it when I was in college. I had to have my mother keep the kitty in Tulsa and the poor thing died of a urinary tract disease (FUS) after her first littler. Aside from her, I had no pets of my own, especially one that I lived with. I thought that getting a kitty would be a nice addition to the home that Michael and I had. Opus was a grey tabby and his siblings were a mix. He was the only tabby. Now he was not the most beautiful cat but those stripes and that pink nose and those eyes just melted me. He said "hey you!!!! I'm the one...look at the look on my face....pick me up!!!!" And that was that. I took him home and the troubles started. He was not able to eat. No matter what we did kitty would not eat and cried and cried and cried. This went on all night until we finally put him out in the car to get some sleep. The next morning I took Opus back to work and had Kelly call his friend. I told the guy that Opus was not weaned and needed a few more weeks at home. I went by the guy's house and saw where Opus was born. It was a bungalow just West of the Broadway Extension in Oklahoma City - South of 23rd. I got a peak of his mother who was a light yellow tabby.
Valentine's Day, also Michael's birthday, we got Opus back, bigger and ready to join the family.

The claws
We had a beautiful weeping willow outside our back door and Opus used to like to climb it. It was great because the branches were really low. Opus could feel high without actually getting too far up. He was pretty well minded with trees until we took him to the park one day. We brought him to a nice park and he was having cautious fun. Suddenly a couple with a big dog on a leash came walking by and Opus zipped up a tall pine. It took at least an hour to coax him down branch by branch. By the time he was down it was almost nightfall. That was so frightening that we decided it was time to get the claws done. So at 6 months (June '89) he was declawed and "fixed".

Fun in the Sand
During the summer of '89 Michael and I took a trip to Padre Island, TX. We had the best time and collected lots of really beautiful shells. The sand was white and I thought it would be a really neat idea to take back a bunch of the sand as well and make a little shell garden for the apartment. When we got home I purchased a large clay tray that goes under a planter. I filled it with sand and arranged the cleaned off shells in it. It was so beautiful. I had it on the coffee table. Then one day I came home and there was a really bad smell in the living room. Apparently mister Opus decided to use the shell tray for a cat box!!!! And I had to dig out all the poo. Needless to say, I had to throw out the sand and pack the shells away. They've been packed in a box ever since.

One fight
Opus was only in one fight his whole life. Some time in 89 when he still had claws he had escaped outside and into the parking lot. At some point he got into a fight and when we found him his eye was injured. He always had a diminished seeing in that eye after that but I'm not sure that he was blinded.

The adult years (the 90s):

The Separation
In 90 I moved out of the apartment but Michael and I stayed a couple for 2 more years. During this time we shared custody of Opus. I never like how Michael rough-housed with Opus. But Opus was ok I guess. Even at that young age, Opus was having hair ball issues and throwing up episodes that lasted for days. Usually if it went on for more than 3 days I'd take him in to get him some help. One day I came over to Michael's and Opus had thrown up for so many days that there was blood in it. Michael had not taken Opus in and wasn't planning on it. After that, Opus stayed with me. Permanently. In the Spring of 92 Michael and I finally broke up and Opus never saw his "dad" again.

Heather Ridge
Opus and I lived in our apartment in Oklahoma City (12831 N. Stratford #246, OKC, OK 73120) for 10 years. I had started smoking regularly after I broke up with Michael and so Opus got to breathe in my second hand smoke all that time. Poor kitty!!!

Play Time
He was very active and loved to play with milk carton lid rings. He would fling them up in the air and then run after them. He'd chew on them and wrap his arms in them. Whenever I would get a new ring I'd throw it down. There were always lots of plastic rings on the carpet. Another one of his favorite toys were his catnip pillows. He was also able to throw them and chase them. He liked to kick them with his back feet and then kiss them and love them with his face. His other favorite games were finger-monster over the furniture edges and corners, which he especially liked with Dad. And something I called Viet Nam where he would get a really wild look in his eyes and dart under the couch cushions in some covert reconnaissance and then dart away quickly from the enemy. He also used to like to wrap himself around the coffee table leg and attack his tail as it twitched.

Cow kitty
Those who didn't know Opus way back when didn't know him as the fat guy he used to be. He was such a pig that I had to ration his food. I had to give him measured servings 3 times a day because otherwise he would eat until he would get sick. He inhaled his food, like a dog. He didn't have the grazing thing down. When I'd go on a trip and leave food out, he'd have half of it eaten before I walked out the door. I often would come home to throw ups. And upon return, I'd find him super heavy from all his gorging.

Back massages
There was a time when Opus would jump into bed with me at night and pull up right behind me and massage my back. I was tempted to have him on David Letterman's stupid pet tricks bit. The massages lasted for oh about a year until Opus was banned from the bedroom.

Hoodie
One day I noticed that when Opus would pee he would lift his tail and go on the wall. This lasted only a few days before I went out and found him a hooded cat box. He had that box until I moved this year, so he had that same box for at least 15 years. It had a handle, which made it easy to carry when traveling with him, but it was hard to scoop, since it would require that you get your arm in there. His latest box was way better because you can lift the whole lid up like a hatch back to scoop, but it locks down for lifting up the entire box.

Peeing
So...speaking of peeing. If there was one word that could describe life with Opus it would be peeing. This little guy sprayed everything. I remember that when I first got in the Oklahoma City Philharmonic, I had a dress made for me. It was long and satin. I had that dress for maybe a week and Opus went into the closet and peed on it. The black satin turned brown and the dress was ruined. That was the first time that I really really thought about getting rid of Opus. Everyone thought I should. But I couldn't. He had also gotten in my closet a few times and peed on shoes. Needless to say, after that Opus was not allowed in my room ever again without strict monitoring. I had to watch him like a hawk.
At Heather Ridge, my apartment for the entire 90s, Opus loved to pee at the front door on the door hinges. So, as you can imagine they were rusted and ruined. The first thing you would smell when you came in was urine. I had to clean it constantly and had no idea how to make him stop. Sometimes he would sneak a pee on the balcony as well. I tried many things but nothing worked. At one point they even replace my carpet, and at that time I repainted some of the walls myself. But Opus started up again and so when I left I had a hefty cleaning charge. If not for that, he would have been a perfect kitty, but that was a major problem and stressed me out.

Cabinets
When Opus was banned from the bedroom, he would do whatever he could to get me to come out and be with him. One thing was to get into cabinet under the sink and knock the trash can down and get into it. I decided to get some child-proof latches to stop him, but that only created a new problem. Now, when I was nice and snug in bed, he would go over to the cabinet and pull the cabinet and it would only open an inch and then slam closed. This bang-bang-bang-bang-bang would go on and on. What a pill this guy was!

Howling
Another charming characteristic of Opus is that he roared. It was more than just the neighborhood cat calls that you hear every Spring. Opus did this year round, and at the worst time. He would go to my front door and scream while I was at work. Neighbors worried about him and I had to assure them that he was just all noise.

Milk
Turned out that Opus was lactose intolerant— something that would afflict me many years later. One day I was thinking about how Opus had never sipped milk out of a saucer. I was thinking how un-catly that was. So I poured some in a saucer and gave it to him. It took him about one minute before he hurled a stomach's worth of milk all over my couch. ICK!!! No more milk for kitty.

The Raffia
One time I got a birthday gift that had been wrapped with raffia — that strawlike husklike fiber. One day I came home and couldn't find it. After an exhaustive search I assumed that Opus had eaten it. I took him to the vet who did not see it on an x-ray. She said that if he ate it, it could kill him and that the only way to be sure if he did or not was to cut. So he went under the knife. Guess what. No raffia. So Opus had some healing to do and was left with a scar on his tummy. I was so ticked off that he had to go through that. I never found the raffia. He might have eaten it and passed it. I'll never know.

Raspberries
Speaking of stomachs, Opus used to let me give him a raspberry on his stomach. I would put him on his back, and grab his front and rear feet and stretch him out, and then I would go from his neck all the way down his stomach blowing on his belly and he just submitted to it. It was like playing a large furry harmonica.

The boyfriends
Ahh, the boyfriends. Well Opus outlasted all of them. After Michael there was Hamed ('92-'95). Hamed tolerated Opus but he never bonded with him. Opus sensed Hamed's distance and never warmed up to him. Hamed was never like family to Opus because he never came in and talked to Opus and acted glad to see him or tried to make friendly bonding with him. Opus was like, "screw you". After Hamed was Paul ('96-'97), who proclaimed that Opus was perverted because of the way he cleaned himself. Opus would spread his legs out to both sides and hunch over and lick himself. It was a move that I liked to call "lickety splits" It was gross, ya, but so what. He's a cat. Paul didn't like Opus. I think he was jealous of him, which is so absurd. Anyway, Paul was dropped. As the saying goes, "love me - love my cat".

Thunder and the Bomb
We were living in the heart of tornado alley and so we frequently had violent storms come through. The actual storms wouldn't last long, but sometimes it seemed longer when you could hear the thunder coming from miles away, inching towards your location. There was one night when a huge clap of thunder went right over my roof and woke me from the bed. Opus and I both freaked out and he ran. There was always some anxiety associated with storms because sometimes we had to go take cover in the bathtub. From then on, Opus associated thunder with danger. Whenever there was a storm and the thunder started, Opus would run behind the toilet or into the bathroom cabinet. He absolutely hated it. He even started running if he heard the rain falling hard.
On April 19th, 1995, I was in my bedroom getting dressed for an children's concert with the philharmonic downtown. Suddenly there was a large boom. Opus immediately ran under the bed. I looked out the window but the sky was blue and sunny. I thought that perhaps a gas line had burst or someone's house had exploded. As I approached the city I could see the smoke. I turned on the radio and heard about the bomb.
When we moved to Seattle, Opus got over his fear of thunder since we were away from it long enough,. When we moved to Dads in '03 I was afraid it might return but it didn't. He was very relaxed during the storms and tornados. Alot of that was also me. I knew he would react to my reaction, so I tried to remain calm.

The tender years (the 00s):

More peeing
In the summer of 99 I moved to Seattle, and Opus wasted no time in initiating my apartment at Amberwood Village.
I took him to a vet who said that he wasn't ill, and that it was behavioral. She said that some cats get into the habit of it and love it too much. You can't make them stop. At that point, I remember breaking down crying because I was at a loss. Do I get rid of him? Never! I can't keep punishing him over and over and over. I hated spanking him and yelling at him but I was at the end of my rope. I finally decided that I would do my best to control the environment. I had his box and food and water in the bathroom (which was roomy). The bathroom also had a window that he could jump up to and see the trees and the complex. Opus spent a lot of time in there. He slept there at night and stayed there during the day while I was at work. He peed on the wall by the bath tub so much that the drywall crumbled away and I had to replaster it. I also had to use child proof gates around the apartment to keep him out of rooms that I couldn't monitor. I had drop cloths in all the popular areas. It was an aggressive initiative but I was determined that Opus and I could find a way to live in harmony without my having to give him up.
While I was at Dad's, ('03-'05) Opus limited his peeing to just a book case which was covered with a drop cloth. By the time I moved to 48th Park West ('05 - '07), he was just peeing on the sliding closet doors (and track) and occasionally the balcony. Eventually he stopped peeing on the closet when he lost his bedroom privileges. Soon he was allowed back in with no problem. That was a relief.
At the duplex, where Opus only lived 6 weeks, he peed once by the TV but that was it. He had finally stopped all that spraying. Only took him 18 years to quit.

The bite
Around 2000, Opus had gotten on my lap and put his fanny in my face (not an atypical cat trick), but in doing so I was able to see the gland on his butt all swollen. I took him in and they squeezed it. It's very painful but gave much relief. A couple of weeks later, however it had filled again. I hated that Opus had to go through that. I took him to the vet and this time I went back and stood by his table to give him some comfort and reassurance. In the middle of the squeeze he screamed and flailed his head and took a big bite into the first thing he could find, which was my hand. The puncture was significant and immediately they gave me some disinfectant and I ran my hand under water. By that evening my hand had swollen up and was turning dark. Cat scratches are for the most part harmless (unless you're pregnant), but puncture wounds are different. As with my hand, they can cause necrosis and I might have lost my hand. There is only one antibiotic that is issued for a cat puncture wound — Augmentin. No other antibiotic seems to work as quickly. After about 3 days on the medicine, I developed a rash all over my entire body. I was allergic. I was put on another antibiotic. It worked well because the Augmentin had already done a good job stopping the spread. Unfortunately, I will always have to be careful with cats now, because a puncture wound could be dangerous since I can't have the medicine. Perhaps there is something that someone could do?? I don't think I can permanently avoid having cats forever.

The vacation incident
This was while we lived in Amberwood Village, our first apartment in Washington, the one where Opus was sequestered to the bathroom. I went home one summer for a vacation. I was gone about 5 days and had set out lots of food and water for Opus in the bathroom and had hid everything from the counters just in case. The child gate was up at the kitchen as well. Last thing I did before I left was crack the window in the bathroom so there would be a little cross draft and to air things out. When I came back I discovered an absolute disaster. A gust of wind had sucked the bathroom door closed. Opus was cut off from his box and his food and water this whole time! He was so upset he got the runs and chose a blanket on my couch to use for a box. He also had no food so he jumped over the child gate somehow and had gotten into the kitchen and knocked some things down but couldn't find his food which was in a closet. Boy did he left me have it after that!!!! I felt so awful. I still haven't forgiven myself for not securing the door. After that I made sure that his things were accessible and that he had someone to look in on him. Poor baby!!!

Silent Meow
Opus never stopped trying to tug at my heart strings. One of the tricks he learned was the silent meow. When he wanted to eat or be spoiled, he would mouth a meow without the sound. As if he's so week he can't muster the meow. When I'd be getting his food and I'd say, "did you lose your meow?" he's just reply "uhh". "Where did you leave your meow? In your dish?" and he'd reply "uhh" The meowless meows pretty much always worked on me. They were just too sweet.

Moving
Worldly kitty! Opus moved for the first time in July of '99 from Oklahoma City to Seattle. Middle of the summer, in a Ryder truck. At one point he had slipped behind the seats and I thought he had gotten in the back trailer. Well going through the panhandle of Texas in the middle of summer can be hot as hell and I knew that trailer could easily be 120-150. We (Mom and I) stopped the trailer and looked madly for him. Couldn't find him at all! With a very very heavy heart, we headed on — me crying as I'm driving. Mother tried to be reassuring but I was sure that if Opus wasn't in the trailer, where he'd die of heat, then he escaped and I'd never see him again. Hours later he emerged from behind the seat. That little monster!. I was ecstatic. He did well on the rest of the trip. We had to watch him like a hawk. He did get some runs when we were in Washington around Wenatchee. That was hard because he had been in his cage. Whew!!! what a mess. Must have been the stress.
Then in 2003 Opus and I moved back to Oklahoma, this time to Tulsa to stay with Dad. This was something I did NOT want to do. So much that I cried when driving over the state line that had a sign that read "welcome to Oklahoma". The move was really easy. Shantel came up and she helped me with the driving. No major kitty incidents. At Dad's Opus got to know his grandpa and visa versa. Dad loved to play finger monsters with Opus and grew to really love his grandson. He really grieved when we left. In May of 05 Opus and I headed back to Seattle, this time with Dad. At one point, we thought we lost Opus when we were checking out of the hotel in Laramie, WY. Here we go again!!! We looked all over the room, we looked in the parking lot, and all over the hotel property. I was devastated. I thought how could he do this!! I was sure that I had scoured the room, but no Opus. Just at the last possible moment he appeared. I have no idea what he did but he did it well. Never underestimate a cat's ability to hide.
Opus's last move was to the duplex 6 weeks ago. It was a super easy move and he didn't seem stressed. He seemed very easy going about the whole thing. Maybe that was because he was on his way out and didn't care.

Birdies
My father feeds wild birds on his balcony but I had never lived in an apartment (in Okla. City or Lynnwood) that was attractive to the birds. So, as hard as I tried, birdies just never came to my porch. When Opus and I moved in with Dad, Opus was in for a treat. Suddenly he had all these birdies coming in for food all day long, Opus especially hated the doves, who would make an odd sound with their wings. He did a cat chirp (hard to explain, but cat owners know this behavior) and then would run to the glass door and stretch his hands onto the glass. Opus also learned to hate the squirrels because Dad was always shooing them away. Opus would sit at the window and chirp at a squirrel who was in the tree flicking his tail in anger at the kitty behind the glass. When I moved back to Seattle I made sure I got a bird friendly apartment. Opus did enjoy his little birdies until he started getting sick and frankly was loosing his vision. Sometimes he would chirp at the shadows flying by but never got as excited as he was while at Dad's.

Plastic bags
Kitties have their little phases and Opus was not exception. After 16 years Opus decided that it was time to start eating plastic. I couldn't leave any plastic bags accessible or anything stored in a plastic bag. If it was in plastic he would find it and eat it and then throw it up. He did this til the very end.

Gimme kissie
A sweet little phase he went through. This started at Dad's. When I'd wake up, and only then, he would climb up my leg to greet me. I'd say gimme kissie and he would then come up to my face and rub his cheek across my cheek. It was soooooo sweet.

The diagnosis
At Dad's Opus was still getting his food measured out. After a year he started to lose weight and I told Dad that we needed to start feeding him more food and more often. He was starting to look thin. By the time I moved back to Seattle ('05), Opus was looking really lean and my friends commented on it. I took Opus in and he was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. So from then and until the end he had to take a little dose of methimazole, a nasty tasting clear liquid, twice a day. This medicine would speed down his metabolism and heart rate. You wouldn't believe the expression on his face after every dose. I knew it had to taste baaaaad. He started looking a little better. At the same time however, he was also diagnosed with kidney disease. That was the first time I ever had to think about Opus's mortality. The doctor, Dr. Guidry at Helping Hands Vet Clinic, gave a rough estimate of 4-6 months until kidney failure would get him. I cried very hard about it I remember. After that, I just thought I'd give Opus his medicine and try to keep him eating, try to keep the hairballs and puking at a minimum, and just provide lots of comfort and love to him. It took a year before his disease got the best of him.

The balcony incident
As mentioned before the apartment in Mountlake Terrace had a really nice balcony and Opus loved to go out on it. I knew from experience to monitor those visits to prevent spraying and to help out if needed (his eyes were going bad). A really long time ago in Oklahoma City, Opus had jumped off the balcony and I couldn't believe he was ok. In his whole life that was the only time. Until now. Shortly after I had moved into this new apartment, Opus was looking through the wood slats on the balcony and his skinny body just fell right through! I panicked and ran downstairs. It was nighttime and it was dark and shadowing behind the building. I saw a kitty figure running from me and I chased it in my socks through the back yard and to the parking lot and underneath a car. I scolded him and out came a strange kitty, who looked at me like "Why are you chasing me???????" I told him "I'm sorry! wrong cat!" and went back to my balcony. I looked down and there was Opus. Just sitting where he had fallen. I picked him up and took him upstairs.

The flea
Christmas of 05 came by quickly and I hadn't pre-arranged boarding for Christmas vacation. By recommendation, I got Opus boarded at Adix's in Lynnwood. When he got back, he had a flea. This was odd because in all of Opus's life he had never had one flea. He was an indoor cat and never was outside long enough to get a flea. So this one flea was it for Opus.

The tub
In his last year, at the ripe old age of 17, Opus decided to expand on an old trick. He had always been a little voyeur when it came to bath time. He'd peak around the shower curtain sometimes but would never come close. Maybe that's because sometimes I would grab him and give him a bath. In '06 Opus started peaking around the shower curtain again, and getting bolder. He actually came around the front and started batting the water that was coming out of the spout with his paw. Then he'd try to chomp at it. Eventually he figured out how to position himself to get a drink. Well after that he was spoiled. Whenever I'd get in the bathtub he could hardly wait for me to get the water started and he'd get right up to the spout and drink.

The window incident
One day at the duplex I was working from home while my car was in the shop and was at my computer. It was a nice day and I had the little window open,. The window opening was near the floor and didn't have a screen but I was sitting right next to it and could watch it. The fresh air was great. Next thing I know, my landlord is knocking on my door. He saw Opus in front of the house and my car wasn't there so he thought I wasn't home. And he tried my door and it was open and he thought I was getting robbed. I was thankful to ease his mind and a little freaked out that Opus had snuck out without me seeing him. If Tim hadn't said anything I might never have known Opus was out and I'm not sure Opus would have been able to find his way back. Naughty kitty.

The end
I can't possibly recount the events of the 3 days prior to Opus's death. But it was quick and yes he did suffer. But its over now. A very long life for a remarkable little guy. Eighteen years of memories are enough to supply me with warm fuzzies for the rest of my life.