Kochko, My King Kitty May 17, 2001 September 30, 2013 My Dear Precious Kochko passed away on Monday, September 30, 2013. Kochko (the Russian word for Love and pronounced like the word cocoa ) was My King Kitty, a Siberian kitty, the Leader of three other Siberian kitties, the Leader of my home, and most certainly the Leader in Unconditional Love Kochko, The Always Unconditionally Loving Kitty.
Very early on, in fact, amazingly during the first week I brought the four Siberian kitties home, I knew Kochko was a very special kitty. All four Siberian kitties were brought home at 12 weeks old (two sets of brothers from two separate sets of parents one set from Iowa, the other set from New Hampshire). One of the kitties, Mischa, had an underdeveloped pancreas, and all the food he ate ran through him undigested. He nearly died. Fortunately, the vet identified the cause immediately, and he had me give Mischa what I called guacamole (actually, it was pancreatic enzyme that tasted really awful) via an eye dropper in his mouth three times a day for the first six months of his life, until his pancreas developed and he could digest food on his own. During that time, Mischa was very, very weak, and had no strength to fight off the other kitties to eat his food. So Kochko, starting the first week they were home, led Mischa into the kitchen and guarded him so he could eat and drink first. Then after Mischa had all he could eat and drink, Kochko would then eat, but not before. He took it upon himself to protect Mischa and ensure he got to eat and drink before anyone else. Kochko showed his incredible love and leadership at that very tender age of 12 weeks, and all the kitties and me knew then that he was a very special kitty, The King Kitty and their Leader. A few months later, when Mischa began to gain his strength and move around easily, his big brother Kochko gave up his kittyhood to show Mischa how to be a kitty, how to play, how to run and chase the other kitties, and how to do everything else that a kitty should do and be. Indeed, Mischa looked up to Kochko as his big brother and mimicked whatever Kochko did throughout his life, and continues to do today. The most important lesson Mischa learned from his big brother, Kochko, The King Kitty, was all about unconditional love, and Mischa was and continues to be a very sweet, tender, and unconditionally loving kitty, just like his big brother, Kochko. Kochko s love, of course, extended to all his brothers. Whenever he was playing with a toy and another kitty came up and wanted to play with the toy, Kochko would share his toy with him. If Kochko was sitting next to me on the couch and getting petted, and another kitty came up on the couch for some affection, Kochko would move further down the couch so his brother could get petted. On cold winter days, Kochko would climb up to the top of the living room kitty tower, and if he found a kitty there, he would gently lay down next to them and sometimes over them, and a grand snooze was had by all. He was the only kitty who would sleep with one of his brothers in the same hammock or basket. Sometimes he even made it a point to go around and sleep with each one, just to let them know how much he loved and cared for them.
Kochko is the only kitty I ever knew with a sense of humor (until Kochko, I did not know that kitties could have a sense of humor). Kochko brought more laughter into my home than anything or anyone. No matter how tired he was, even if he was sound asleep, anytime I ate a meal in the kitchen, he would come and rub up against my legs, and then make me laugh doing rollovers from one end of the kitchen floor all the way across to the other side and then back again. One of Kochko s very favorite toys were plastic twirlers that he would fire up in the air and bat around in the upstairs landing and the bathroom, all the while singing his favorite songs, which could be heard throughout the house. When he felt the twirlers needed cleaning, he would put them in the bathroom s kitty water bowl, and, of course, I would wash and dry them and return them to his play area on the upstairs landing. Kochko loved to play games, and, of course, this often included his twirlers. One of his favorite games was to bring the twirlers into the upstairs bathroom, and whenever I went upstairs, I would find the twirlers all over the bathroom floor. Of course, it would make me laugh, and I would then move them back into Kochko s play area on the upstairs landing. Of course, the game s afoot, so when he found his twirlers back in his play area, he would bring them back into the bathroom. Kochko s timing was impeccable I never ever saw him carry the twirlers back into the bathroom, but each and every time I laughed and moved his twirlers back in his play area, I could count on the twirlers being back in the bathroom. And of course, when I walked in and saw them, I would laugh and move them back in Kochko s play area. And so the ongoing, never-ending game of twirlers in the bathroom, and the subsequent laughter abound. By the way, the blue twirlers were his favorite color, hence the reason there are two in the above picture (these photos are of his twirlers that I put on his gravesite). Kochko is the only kitty I ever knew that each and every day he would make me laugh in so many ways. He would find me working too intently and go upstairs and fire down his plastic twirlers from the upstairs balcony down onto my computer keyboard with incredible accuracy. Even I could not land the twirlers on the keyboard like Kochko his aim was amazing. After he fired a twirler on my keyboard, he would stand there and wait for me to notice. His big owl-like loving blue eyes even bigger, all excited and happy. I would then fire the twirlers back up to him, and he would catch them and juggle them high up in the air a few times, and again, with utmost accuracy, toss them back to me, and we would play catch many times back and forth before he tired
out, sat down, hung his head through the balcony railing, and smiled at me with his big Loving blue eyes. Whenever I would take a little too long in the bathroom, Kochko would hold himself upright on his hind legs outside the door, scratch lightly on the wall, and then peek in with just his head and his big blue eyes showing. He would open his eyes even wider when I noticed him and then quickly disappear. No sooner did I assume he had run off, and he would peek his head back in again he was playing peek-a-boo with me! And, of course, he made me laugh. Whenever I would start to get out the television remotes from the tin can in which they were stored, Kochko would hear the sounds and, no matter where he was in the house, whether or not he was sound asleep (kitties hear in their sleep), he would hurry over and sit next to me on the couch, often before the television even made it on. I would then give him a really good petting. Kochko loved his neck scratched and would move his head all around to where he wanted me to go next. Then he would take a nice long kitty nap next to me, and at a trim 20 pounds, he made a nice giant warm furry soft arm rest, all the while purring as loud as he could. Often when he purred, he would purr with his mouth slightly open and wearing a big kitty smile, and I could hear him even across the room. Every night he would leave his little blue basket, where he often liked to sleep at night, to make his rounds, check on his brothers, and then jump up on the bed to ensure I was breathing. He would get right up to all our faces, and then after seeing we were ok, he would go back into his little blue basket and go to sleep. If you ever met a lama, you would know they like to smell your breath as a sign of friendship, and amazingly, Kochko did the same thing he loved to come up to my face and smell my breath just like a lama as a sign of friendship. Kochko was the inventor of major headbutting, He also knew just where to headbutt you in the leg, right where your funny bone is, and of course, it would make me laugh. When he was really motivated, he would headbutt me like a woodpecker, and of course, I would laugh all the more. He also taught his brothers to headbutt, and now they all headbutt bigtime, and even sometimes like Kochko s woodpecker headbutt. Kochko loved to sing, and if you have ever heard a kitty singing, you would think they were singing a very sad song. But if you ever saw Kochko singing, you would also see he was having the time of his life, with his big blue eyes as big as they could be and always, while singing, holding a twirler in his mouth, along with the biggest grin I have ever seen on a kitty. Often, he would continue singing outside the bathroom, then sing for a while on the landing upstairs, and then come down the stairs, all the while working extra hard to keep the twirler in his mouth, singing as loud as he could. Then, when he
knew I was not looking, he would drop the twirler down by my chair as he passed by. It was his way of giving a gift, his precious twirler, to cheer me up and make me laugh. Early on I learned that whenever Kochko gave me his twirler as a gift to not ever throw it back to him to play fetch he felt insulted and stomped off it only took one or two times to know that he was giving me a gift (not a toy). Kochko often laid on a kitty stool next to me while I worked. Sometimes while I was conducting a meeting (I telecommute as a Senior Technical Project Manager), and there could be 80 or more people on the call, Kochko would headbutt me on the leg, just where it makes me laugh, and then circle around and headbutt me again throughout the call. I had all I could do to contain the giggles, because it tickled and also because Kochko knew it would make me laugh. Kochko was the most loving and caring kitty I have ever known, and the most intuitively sensitive to how I was feeling. Whenever he thought I was working too long, he would get on the kitty stool, and reach up and tap me on the shoulder, which of course, helped me to not take things too seriously, get back in my heart, and love up my Kochko-ko. Kochko never wanted too much attention on himself, and when he thought he had been petted enough, he would gently lay his paw on my hand, and I knew he was all set. If I did not get the message, he would hop off the kitty stool, and then hop back on, so I would get it the second time. Then he would continue to sit next to me and purr so loud that the kitty stool would vibrate. Every night I needed to give Kochko medicine for his allergies. I mixed it in wet food, and it required a certain amount of food so that the medicine would not upset his stomach. It was a lot for a kitty, and the event took between a half hour and an hour each night. Kochko knew he had to eat it all before I would stop coming to him to finish it, and he would push it down, knowing I was giving it to him to help him. He was very sweet through it all, and indeed, for me, it was a labor of love I did not mind, because he was such a loving and giving kitty. I wanted him to be as loved and happy as he could possibly be. When things were too quiet around the house, Kochko would start racing around the house and get the other kitties all excited and racing around the house with him. Then he would stand back and have the grandest time watching them chase each other through the house. Kochko was not only the biggest kitty of them all, he was also the fastest. He could do full circle from the bottom of the stairs by the entry way, up the stairs to the second floor, down the hallway, through the bedroom, through the music loft, jump off the loft balcony onto a kitty stand on top of a table on the first floor, jump down the table, race through the exercise room, down the hall and back at the bottom of the stairs in six seconds flat.
Every morning, Kochko routinely came into the kitchen, and first thing, he would come over to me for a hug. So I would heft him up and place him over my shoulder, just about at the point where it felt like he would fall off the other side, but that is where he loved to be, and then I would give him a full body rub, and he would purr and purr and purr and purrrrrr. Kochko was the only kitty I ever knew who thanked me for his food. From the time he arrived home and throughout his life, if I was in the kitchen, he would not eat his food until he came over to thank me each and every time he would rub his head up against my legs and hands, headbutt me, and then look up at me, opening his mouth with a big smile and all the while purring as loud as he could it truly was the loudest purr in kittydom. In the morning, I prepared the kitties food and water a bowl of organic romaine lettuce (Kochko ate a bowl daily), organic romaine lettuce in reverse osmosis filtered water (all the kitties love this and drink more water as a result), a bowl of water without lettuce, and a bowl of dry food pellets and all the time I was preparing, he would headbutt me, right in that funny bone area, to make me laugh. Kochko was the only kitty I ever knew that did food pairing. He loved romaine lettuce and loved to eat it along with his food pellets. He would go back and forth between the two bowls of lettuce and pellets, one bite of lettuce, one bite of pellets, then back again to the lettuce, then back to the pellets, back and forth. My four Siberian kitties are the most conscious kitty beings I have ever known, especially Kochko he was remarkable. One day I was looking for a piece of wire for something I was doing, and in a matter of minutes, there was Kochko with a twist tie in his mouth. I never ever leave ties around (not kitty safe), but he managed to find one and bring it to me. Kochko reminded me of Chewbacca from Star Wars, with his beautiful, shiny, thick, and sometimes wild fur (see photo on next page). Combined with his amazing sense of humor, he would turn over on his back, put all four paws in the air, and then with his big blue eyes, he would look over at me to be sure I was looking at him (see his eyes in the next two pictures) and, of course, I would laugh and his eyes and smile would get even bigger, and his purrrrrr even louder.
Kochko also taught his three brothers to do paws up. On a couple rare occasions when I was really really down, he would get all of them to lay on their backs in the livingroom floor with all four paws up in the air. I wish I had a picture of that because I know it would cheer up anyone who saw it. Look at those sweet loving eyes and cute four paws up in the air! Are you smiling too?
Kochko loved to have his picture taken. I have no idea why, but he loved it when I took photos of him. In looking back, I think this was part of his funny sense of humor, posing as best he could for the camera. Kochko s Last 3 Days. It is so very, very difficult to write about the last few days and hours of Kochko s life because they were so incredibly sad, so I will not write about it in detail, as I do not want to remember it. I keep trying to forget the last three days, and if I put them in here, it will only help to remember them, but here is a brief overview. Saturday afternoon. Only three days before his passing, Kochko started to have difficulty breathing (there was no indication prior to these last days that he was sick at all, and his physical in May was normal). I rushed him to the veterinarian hospital, where they took x-rays and the veterinarian showed me a large dark area in his chest. The x-ray also showed his chest was filled with fluid (not his lungs, but his chest cavity), so much so that it was difficult for the doctor to see clearly what was going on. It was this fluid that was making it difficult for Kochko to breath. The doctor gave Kochko a mild sedative, and from Saturday evening through early hours on Sunday, the doctor very slowly and gently removed a significant amount of fluid from Kochko s chest cavity. However, the doctor said that even after removing the fluid, it was difficult to diagnose what was going on in Kochko s chest area, what the underlying mass was in his chest cavity, and that an ultrasound was needed as soon as possible to determine what was wrong, and that his condition appeared to be very serious. The symptomatic condition, pleural effusion, is an abnormal, excessive collection of pleural fluid, and the veterinarian believed that whatever was the large dark area, possibly a fast-growing tumor, was the cause of the condition. Sunday afternoon. I brought Kochko home from the hospital. He was breathing much easier, and he ate and drank a little, but mostly rested. Then late Sunday night he started throwing up violently, and what he threw up smelled awful (the doctor said later it was because there was blood in what he threw up). I called the hospital and they said to bring him in right away. The doctor examined Kochko thoroughly, gave him medication to help, observed him for a couple hours, and then felt it was ok for him to come home and rest. Again, the doctor stressed the importance of getting an ultrasound right away to determine what was wrong. Monday. I called my regular veterinarian, and he arranged for Kochko to have the ultrasound right away, as he was not doing well. It took close to an hour to drive Kochko to the cardiologist who could do the ultrasound. When I got to the facility, Kochko s body temperature was very low, 97, and within an hour dropped to 94, which is hypothermia in a cat (normal is 100-102), and he was having difficulty breathing. Kochko was always an unconditionally loving and giving kitty, even in the last hours of his life. While waiting in the exam room for the cardiologist, Kochko
rested his head in my hand, looking up at me with his loving eyes, and purring as best he could. It was a very, very precious time we had together, and I am so thankful for that time. What I did not know is that it was our last time together. After the examination, the cardiologist took Kochko into the room where they do ultrasounds. However, a short time later, the cardiologist came into the exam room where I was waiting and said that the fluid in Kochko s chest cavity had increased so much so that they could not do the ultrasound without removing the fluid. The vet also said that Kochko was so weak that without removing the fluid, he may not survive the car ride home. During the procedure to remove the fluid from Kochko s chest, his heart stopped, then his breathing. The doctor and staff could not revive him. My dear precious Kochko, my King Kitty, my Very Best Buddy, was gone. I was devastated. I am still devastated, heartbroken, and sad, all beyond any way I will ever be able to describe. His brothers also experienced the loss greatly, and even after all this time, continue to miss him, look for him, and cry out for him. I do not know how long it will be before we fully recover from losing him. It has taken all this year to finally complete Kochko s story, especially about his last three days (very difficult to do). I know I need to do my best to remember the good times and keep those good memories going so they overshadow the moments that sadden me now. Many times throughout the day and night, I think about my Kochko, how much I loved him, how much he loved me, how much he loved his brothers, about his unconditional love, about the joy and laughter he brought to us and our home, what a loving precious kitty he was. The loss of my Kochko is so very great. I miss him so very much and am so incredibly sad about losing my dear precious Kochko, my King Kitty, my Very Best Buddy. Tuesday. Burial. I wrapped my precious Kochko in his favorite blankets, which were turquoise blue, his favorite color, and placed him in his favorite light turquoise blue basket that every night in the bedroom he would squeeze his 20- pound body into it because he knew it would make me laugh (he also took naps in it too, as it fit him perfectly as a lounge chair). Then I placed him and his basket in a big box with all his favorite toys, and buried all in a beautiful, sweet, and quiet wooded area on my land about a hundred feet from the house. I had a ceremony with my closest friends, and we covered the gravesite with a beautiful turkey feather, a heart-shaped rock I amazingly found on the way to burying him, placed three twirlers on top, along with flowers, and pine cones. Even now, I continue to put flowers on his grave, especially sunflowers, as they are bright and sunny and happy, as was my dear precious Kochko. * * * * *
Kochko, My King Kitty May 17, 2001 September 30, 2013