We brought Noodle home from the local animal shelter in August of 2019. The vet guessed he was about a year old, although my stock in what our vet thinks and knows at the moment isn’t real high. The vet also gave Noodle a healthy bill of health, which is why we were surprised when three months later he had a stroke and series of seizures that apparently permanently ruptured his ear drum and changed his personality from one of a spry 10-year-old child to that of a sixty-year-old man. The stroke permanently affected his equilibrium, and he spent the rest of his life with his head cocked at a 45 degree angle. The kids named him Noodle because he was the color of Ramen Noodles, while my wife and I secretly called him that because his brains were like scrambled noodles. The vet was unsure what happened to Noodle’s balance and offered us two solutions: eardrops that “probably wouldn’t do much” for $200, or “exploratory brain surgery” that would start at $1,200 with no guarantee of discovering anything. We opted for the eardrops and for once the vet was right — they didn’t do anything.
Noodle was affectionate but odd. He liked to sit near people, but not always on them. Many evenings while While Susan and I were watching TV, he would sit on the floor and stare at us with his crooked head. Noodle spent a lot of time in my wife’s office while she worked, often making himself heard on her Zoom calls. He liked laying near the foot heater next to her, and sometimes on top of her desk. He also had an affinity for Amazon trash. He loved not just sitting inside Amazon boxes, but making little beds out of sheets of bubble wrap and any other packing material he could find.
Noodle and his younger sister Carol got along for the most part. Carol was much more active, and kept Noodle on his toes by chasing him around and, for some reason, biting him on the butt. I have read that some cats like to be up high and some like to stay low to the ground. Carol is a “high” cat and Noodle is a “low” cat. Carol likes sleeping on top of her carpeted cat tower, and Noodle liked sleeping under our bed, or occasionally on top of it. When it was bedtime, Noodle would run to Susan’s side of the bed and lay there until she got there.
We’re not sure what exactly happened, but it seems that Friday Noodle suffered a more serious stroke and/or seizure that left him completely lethargic and mostly paralyzed. We took him to the vet Saturday morning who, after billing us $950, said (I’m paraphrasing here) “hell if I know!” The vet said if things didn’t improve within 48 hours to bring him back. Things did the opposite of improving, and we spent Sunday evening on the couch next to Noodle, saying goodbye.
I don’t like to see animals suffer, and I sure don’t like to see my family suffer. If you were ever going to send good thoughts to Susan or Morgan or do something nice for them, this would be the month. It’s been a heck of a January and we’re all looking forward to starting 2023 over next month.
Rest in peace, our little noodle-brained pal.
Your family gave Noodle the best life a cat could ask for. In return, he gave you the best love a cat can give.
R I P little fur ball.
there’s nothing more adorable than a faulty cat…
and nothing better than humans who care for them…
sleep well little noodle…
xx
Sounds like he had a very loving home in his short time with you. Unfortunately, sometimes their little bodies just have other plans for them. I’m a firm believer that they absolutely know and feel when they are loved and I know he knew you all loved him. Hy heart goes out to your family in this time of loss. Rest well, little Noodle.