I remember the night my dad brought this tiny, fluffy kitten home. We all decided that the name Oscar suited him best. With the personality- and energy, of a dog, Oscar enjoyed belly rubs, sleeping like he paid the bills, and exploring the outdoors. He always ran to the door if you called his name. Oscar might have been across the neighborhood, but if he heard you, he was going to make the journey to come to you- no matter how long it takes. He also liked to brawl with the neighborhood cats and often came home with bruises and scratches, but we always knew that he won those fights because he was a tough guy. When he was younger, he got in a fight that left him cross-eyed, which made him so much more unique and special in addition to his short tail.
A week before Oscar passed, our family noticed an abnormal swelling on his face. When we started to realize it was getting very big, very quickly, we scheduled a visit to the vet. They told us that he had a malignant tumor, and that we should prepare for the worst. We got to enjoy a week or so longer with him, and on the night of July 22nd, 2025, after sprawling out on my lap one last time, he began to bleed profusely from his mouth. We rushed him to the vet hospital, and we spent our last moments attempting to give him treats like chocolate and a Churu, saying goodbye and embracing him. When he took his last breath, we knew he was ridden of all his pain at last.
Oscar loved snuggles and fuzzy polyester blankets, and I always cherished the moments he decided to come lay on my lap and cuddle up for hours when he was in the mood. When I was in bed, our other two cats wouldn’t snuggle with me because I unfortunately sleep on the top bunk, but Oscar didn’t let that get in the way. If I said his name, he would jump up there and come cuddle with me, make biscuits, drool on me, and lick my hands. In his lifetime, he made so many biscuits that he could have absolutely started a bakery.
Oscar was a tall cat. He had the longest legs I’ve ever seen on a cat, and when he would stretch, he would almost cross over half of the couch. He took up so much space, and now that he is gone; there is a void. He will no longer respond to my call when I suddenly miss his sweet little purr. Oscar shaped our hearts when we found him, and now there will forever be a paw print-shaped hole in our hearts for the remainder of our time without him.
Jesus has promised us to be made new with His second-coming. Romans 8:18-25 states that all of creation has been subjected to the curse of Adam, and waits eagerly to be made new. I believe as a Christ follower that Oscar- although taken sooner than anticipated- by disease and death, is now in paradise with our Father in heaven and has received his new body in complete health and restoration. I thank our Lord God for blessing my family and I with the life of Oscar, and we thank Him also that we have hope in receiving a new and perfectly renewed body through Him, who redeems all of us subjected to death by Adam. I thank God for letting me feel the love of a critter like Oscar. Rest in peace my sweet baby.