Last Wednesday was a big day. Iz went to a friend’s house while I attended my first business class. When we got home, the cat was gone. I knew it was coming. He’d lost sooooo much weight. We had spent that day by the garden outside. Meow Meow was 16. He had lost so much weight in the past months, and that Wednesday, he could hardly walk. I carried him outside (he was an inside kitty), and we sat by the garden, Iz ate tomatoes, and I cried. I knew this was it. He didn’t fight it when I picked him up. He didn’t get up and walk away (he couldn’t), he didn’t even hiss at the grass (he was a city/inside cat, we rescued him at 4 weeks, and he slept on our bed for the past 15 years-until the iz was born). They say that within 2 years of a baby, the cat usually dies. I didn’t think it would happen, I always thought he’d be with us. It was time for me to take Iz to our friend’s house while I took my class. On the way to the top of the hill, I thought that I should call the vet the next day to ask a few questions…like how would I know?
I picked the Iz up, and she was asleep in the car within seconds. When we got home, I noticed the cat wasn’t in his bed, which was very unusual. After the Iz was in her bed, I started looking around. I was crying. I knew. I knew that it was over. The 16 years of wonderful madness with our baby shithead (yeah…that was his name) was over. I searched the house, the basement, outside…he was gone. I couldn’t stop sobbing. I knew it was coming, yet at the same time, I couldn’t believe he was gone. How could he leave us? Didn’t he know that he was part of our family? Craziness and all? What was he thinking. But, I cried because I wish that I had been there to hold him and love him ’till the very end. Closure…you know?
The next day, Iz wondered “Where is Meow Meow?”, I told her he went by-by. She said (can you see the tears streaming down my face?), “Meow Meow is in the garden.” How did she know? She is only 21 mos old?
She doesn’t say much more about him now. We haven’t moved his bed or toys. Every morning I go to the back door to see if he’s come home.
By-By Meow Meow. We love you.
This is so sad! It reminded me of when Francis started to fall apart in Spring 05 and then died on April 3rd.
best,
Jill
Oh, shit-head, oh e-pie, oh meow-meow. How many times did you wake us up scratching at the bedroom door. We’ll always remember in Spanish Harlem, when you sat on the pizza box with the rodent inside all night long. And when you first met prrrt prrrt. And those nut-case, whitey-freakin’, wacko-cats. And your little spotted mama. Oh, and your pink, rhinestone studded collar. Go toward the light, shit-head, there’s a giant pile of wet-food on the other side.
Ode To Shit-Head
His name was shit-head
and he was our friend
We loved that fat cat
until the very end.
He could be annoying as Hell
but we loved him still
he’s probably stuffing his face
upon Heaven’s hill.
Our love,
Michelle, Don & Autumn