I seem to be saying a lot of farewells this month.
We had to put our cat to sleep a few days ago. The tumors in her throat began to hamper her breathing and her ability to eat, and her already petite frame began to shrink more rapidly than it had in the past month. It was difficult to say goodbye, because this would be forever.
My ex and I have been talking about her, sharing many memories of what a good cat she was, despite the numerous animals, reptiles and insects she brought into the house. Birds, lizards, mice, rats, crickets… I started to get used to seeing these creatures – I wasn’t even too shocked when, one morning, I found a live mouse curled up in one of my running shoes. Prolific hunting seemed to be in her DNA, so she was just doing her job. Granted, she took it too far sometimes, like the time she dropped a dead rat at our feet while we were entertaining guests (I guess she had gotten the memo that it was a potluck), and another time when she attacked one of our friend’s dreadlocks as it hung over the back of the sofa.
She was the boss of me. She would use her Jedi mind control to get me to feed her, and sometimes I would find myself opening up another can if she turned her nose up at the first one. I would wonder, she will eat a rat’s ass but not this delicious tuna and chicken medley?? But I obeyed because her will was stronger than mine. To keep me in line, sometimes she would raise her paw and hit me on the back of my calf as I walked by her or even sprint past me and do the same if I was standing still.
Animals never live long enough. But the joy of having her in my life is something for which I will always be grateful.