September 27, 2007 Issue                                       

©2007 The Chestnut Hill Local

Had survived 45-foot fall
‘Special’ slain cat had big impact on lives in G’twn
by DIANE COLLINS

Rumi was able to survive a 45-foot fall but not a vicious attack by a wild dog.

Rumi, our  beautiful male cat, died last week on a drive to the emergency room after being attacked by a stray dog. Ordinarily the neighboring church (in Germantown) has its gates closed, which would have prevented the attack. But on this very sad and uncommon occasion, it was left wide open.

His suffering lasted about 45 minutes, as best as I can tell. Attah, one of my dogs, and I were with him. I was speaking with him when he finally died.

I am reminded of finding him on that hot summer roof two years ago in Germantown — a dehydrated bag of bones. (The building I found him on was bulldozed a week later.) He immediately befriended Cody (my other dog) and Attah.

With loads of love, affection, patience (and ear plugs), Rumi grew to be a wonderful feline companion for myself and Attah, and I grew to understand kitties a good bit better, recognizing how I would easily overlook the important details of his life within our shared walls. 

I learned about his courage, his trust in me, his crazy self-attack with feet-grabbing, tail-biting antics. He would chomp down hard on his own hind feet! It was such a hoot! He’d spin around over and over and grab his thighs, his feet and his tail and attack it full-tilt! Then he’d kick himself in the face for the bite that grabbed his foot. It would bring me to tears with laughter; he could be so silly. This lasted until he matured, when he did stop doing it. It was so funny!

He took great delight in sneak-attacking Attah in our old studio when he was bored as well as forcing her out of her own dog crate.

And then there was the time that Rumi accidentally fell out of a window that was three 14-foot stories above the ground. He liked to sun himself in the early morning sun on a window ledge, and somehow he fell off. When I saw him on the ground, utter panic seeped into my body as I realized what had happened. He was making an awful low moan, and I thought for sure I would lose him to internal injuries.

I rushed him to the vet, and they did a ton of tests and X-rays. They found he had broken his front foot in several places, and the roof of his mouth was broken, split right down the middle. The next morning I got the vet on the phone seven minutes before the office officially opened.

He said, “I have to tell you that this is one remarkable cat. I took a second set of X-rays and had to question whether the ones I previously saw were even his. I questioned everything because when I did my morning rounds, Rumi was walking on his foot and eating solid food! I must say you have one very hardy cat, and there’s no sense in keeping him here. He has no internal injuries, and he is dealing very well with his broken bones. They don’t seem to hinder him at all.”

So Rumi was quite courageous, silly and very affectionate. We quickly grew very close. With all his antics, at the end of the day, we three could be seen nearly every night curled up on the bed together in a one happy pile of warmth. 

Our recent move to another part of Northwest Philly broadened his horizons in that he was afforded, after much debate on my part, the luxury of outings twice a day. We worked on his recall, and quickly he was “a comin’ a runnin’ “ on request during his yard outings.

In this spacious, lush yard, he discovered the beauty of tree climbing. On the first one he climbed, I saw a distinct shift in those little eyes, and I swear I saw him swagger like a panther after he jumped out of that first tree, looking more primitive and wild ever since then while retaining and developing further the absolute sweetness that was his core personality. It seemed to manifest itself more and more every day as his personal daily pleasure increased with the access to a yard and all the kitty discoveries within it.

Rumi’s beautiful large spotted coat felt more like rabbit fur than cat fur. He was a dear companion who will forever hold a special place within me. He is now buried in the backyard, which he absolutely loved!

It is challenging to consider whether an inside cat would be happier than a cat that can explore the outdoors. My suspicion is all cats are different, as is the case with dogs as well. That being said, I came to believe that Rumi was one of those cats whose indoor life, as rich as I attempted to make it, was just a fraction of the life he yearned for outdoors while watching the birds, bugs and other animals in that rich natural world that belongs to them.

I can’t tell you all how much I miss him already.  He had a big impact on our little world here in Germantown.  What a special treat it was to know him! Remarkable how a delicate soul can touch us so deeply in such a short time.

Diane Collins is a professional dog trainer. She can be reached at studio@dianecollinsstudio.com