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With all the illness and losses that plagued our friends and family through the past summer and fall, it didn’t seem appropriate that I lament publicly about an old cat wearing out. Now, winter is hard on everybody at some level, and having to bury anyone, even a pet, in the cold is just terribly unpleasant, not even counting the sorrow of loss. Since summer, the year has been hard on the pet population in our family. Our son, our daughter, a niece and we ourselves have each lost a pet. So, indulge me please as I talk about that old cat. One gray evening I drove into our driveway with this in my vision. My husband, who would certainly not want to be labeled ‘soft’ was on his backhoe across the road, digging a little grave because he knew I was on my way home from the veterinarian’s office with my old gray cat who’d taken his last trip home. We laid him wrapped in his soft camo blanket under an oak tree where he had played and hunted many a day. I wrote most of the following on that evening.
December 2019: In the red glow of a winter sunset, I say goodbye to my friend of ten and a half years. Mr. Gray Kitty was the world’s best mouser and mole catcher ever. He appeared on my front porch the week of my mother’s funeral with one eye open and the other still closed. Now, how a new kitten could have found our five-block high porch from who knows where, is anybody’s guess. I gave up asking who placed him there, as everyone seemed as stumped as I. His first look at me sent him diving off the end of the porch into the shrubs, only to scale the wall a few hours later and then repeat the routine three or four more times. By the third day of placing a small dish of cat food under the shrubs, it became clear that he preferred diving and hiding over human contact. The second time my husband (yeh the tough guy) heard a meow followed by my denial of any cat ownership, he said, “OK, if you’re gonna keep it, get it fixed and get it’s shots.” And so Mr Gray became a member of our family. Funny how these four legged creatures never have to say a word; they just move in.
Mr. Gray kept me occupied that summer with orienting him to our house… or perhaps he oriented me to the world of cat lovers, and bossed his way into my heart. Cantankerous and funny, he came within an inch of his furry life more than once by killing my birds, but as they say, he WAS a cat. I finally attached two bells to his collar to give the birds a heads up that they were being stalked. Calling him in for the night was easier too, as I could hear the jungle jingle while he trotted in from the field to sleep in the garage, usually on top of my car, mountain lion style. I still smile at the memory of his mad dash out when the doors were opened in the morning, after which he would pause, look around as if embarrassed to say, “well, I don’t know what the rush is, nothing has changed”. As a hunter, he was amazing. Our garage was his trophy case. No sooner did we remove one headless prey, than he would deposit another. Mice, moles, rats, snakes, frogs, baby rabbits (I know, sad) and unfortunately birds, were all too slow for that old cat. Too quick for us as well, one minute he was rubbing our legs, purring for petting, and the next he was leaving scars on our arms. As the senior pet, he was much too cool to welcome the puppy. Eventually he was following, from a cool distance of course, when we took our afternoon walks. He had to admit hide and seek was fine as long a he could hide and pounce.
Finally, too old and sick to go on living, his hunts are over. I now bury him at the time of day he would be coming in to tell us he is still king hunter, and looking for his Temptations treats. I will miss his little freckled nose.
If there’s a moral to this, and I’m not sure there is (I just wanted to tell you about that old cat) then the moral might be this. Animals do not come in touting all their accomplishments nor proclaiming their worth. Whatever it is they are supposed to do, they just move in and do it; guarding, hunting, cuddling, whatever they find to do, they do it with all their hearts. Not a word of our language, yet they show great loyalty and return our care with love unlimited.
“And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ.” (Colossians 3:23-34) NKJV