lessons from an animal friend

Many years ago, a spirited little orange striped tabby bolted into my life as he brazenly went out of his way among a hoard of 15 or more kittens to show affection to me from inside a mini-shelter cage. His grand debut occured after the staff attempted to place him into a carrier box-- which he easily escaped from--- then they attempted to place him in a larger corrugate box, duct taped shut-- which he also, too easily escaped from. As he swaggered with his tail high above his hind quarters, it was obvious this was a proud cat full of zest for life. He was all too curious about the aisles of the pet store beyond the shelter cages and did not seem concerned about the giant towering humans running around to contain him.

To get him home safely - I finally took my jean jacket off and gently covered his eyes and wrapped him to pick him up. It was only seconds before he struggled to evade my clutches. However, having had many cats in my lifetime, I was able to hold his nape just like his mother would have, to get him into my car. Fotunately, someone else was driving - so I could hold him on my lap.

On the way to my apartment, the tiny 4 week old kitten decided to place his paws on the window and stretched up as far as his tiny body would go. He did not seem to have any fear---he simply was curious at all the sights and sounds we passed, whipping his head at every new unfamiliar item and interesting sound. When I exited the vehicle, I no longer had to cover his head. He seemed quite content to be looking around and did not even struggle much to get out of my grasp until entering the small apartment.

That was 19 years ago. Through the years, during a bad marriage, the poor cat was thrown about by my ex in fits of rage, endured hunger because of my ex's financial lies and carelessness and also, suffered with me as I sometimes would be in desperate measures and so fearful that I looked to my cat for solace and would hold him for hours while attempting to rest as he seemed to be the only thing to help calm me. But this cat stood by me always--- acting like he was my protector and dog-like in many ways, deciding to train the other cat or safeguard parakeets and fish from harm from other cats or dogs. He insisted I get rest when needed, crying until I would go to bed at times-- then diligently patting down the covers around me as though tucking me in. In the mornings, he would often gently wake me with purring in my ears or pats on my face, so I would not be late for work. And every time I came home, he would vigilantly be waiting by the door for my entry.

For many years, he even chose to learn things from me, doing tricks and learning to use a toilet after only a couple months of training. And no matter how many weeks I would go away overseas or with significant relationships--- as long as he could guard the home with a pet sitter coming by, he would always be so eager to see me again and welcome me. I knew he was special when he would even give up eating just to have time with me during my most busy work travel years.

He proved his loyalty to me to the very end the other week.

Sadly, he did have off/on health problems through the years but refused most attempted medical treatments. I finally had to listen and pay attention to his actions and what he was trying to communicate to me the other year. I fired his previous over zealously pharmaceutical vet and began to make a blend of items he seemed to respond to by eating voraciously. He showed me how to help him live another 6 years by this act - then, this year, he caught colds and began to fail quickly as he became stressed over my final move into our own home.

The last few weeks were difficult at best, as he lost ability in his hind legs and began to slide instead of walk. But he would eat with determination, communicate with his various vocabulary of 'meows' while constantly moving about, as if to try to heal. His new vet even said he thought the cat was acting like we were soulmates--- that this cat was determined to fight to stay with me a little longer.

Then last Monday, as I remained at work for too long, I returned home late at night to him attempting to stand and screeching a loud meow, after which he keeled over with weakness, having used the last of his strength to say hello and good bye once more to me. I held him in my arms through the night as he breathed in shallow breaths while kept his focus on me. In the morning, as I finished my shower, he attempted one more pitch but failed. As I held his head in the next minute- he breathed his last few breaths after looking upon me once more. It was as if he was saying, "I did my best, but I can't wait for you today, so I am going to say a final goodbye now, while you are still here."

Later that day, I dropped his body off at the vet and prepared to travel for work again for the remainder of the week.

It was as though he planned it all-- to the final end, showing me what a true unconditional love could be, regardless of any pain he had from the small tumor I found by his liver, he kept trying to be my companion and trying to communicate, and always showing just how much a spirit could love another being. But then he chose how he wanted to die and he did not even suffer much at all. And he communicated clearly to the very end...

What an amazing lesson he has for all of us.