In Memoriam to Percy, My Boy

What exactly happened the other day to break my heart and the pace of my life forever? What message was the universe trying to send?

I lost my Percy, my little boy, a tabby cat for others. How is it possible that a healthy happy cat in a heartbeat suffers a thrombosis that paralyzes his back legs in horrible pain, driven to the vet and within minutes is opiated and dying with my last words of thanks for being Percy?

He was buried yesterday by a big tree on a sunny hillside outside that he loved so much. His memory lives on and perhaps some wisdom about life in general. Why is there grief at the passing of an ordinary cat … get another one. But it’s not that easy because what he represented cannot be replaced for me and many others.

He was my first direct encounter with nature … eye to eye, paw on hand, a large furry body breathing on my lap. There was no pretense or conditions of who he was, no need to comprehend just be comforted petting his head, rubbing his belly, bright reflective eyes clear marble hues, sensitive spray of long whiskers, kneading and grooming, feeding regularly with tasty treats, waiting with wide-eyed patience and quiet appreciation.

He was a handsome boy, brindled grey with dark brownish tiger stripes marking his body like a target sign on the side, amber highlights with soft tawny underbelly and loose pouch for protection. His fur was short-haired, silky like a mink with regular bristle brushing for which he’d jump on my lap. Even though neutered, he would spray corners of the property, ready to accept passing cats at the distance but ready to fight if challenged. Two previous vet trips dealt with his infections and scars and once to remove a couple erupted teeth. He allowed a kitten to play with his elder somber self.

His unique feature was a bobbed tail. He lost his long tail when caught in a car door trying to pull it out dislodging some of the small vertebra causing his tail to fall off after a couple days. Surgery closed the flap to prevent infection and he walked around bobbed with frequent comments about how unusual he was.

That’s the thing about animals … they are beautiful but they don’t flaunt their beauty or compare to be better, larger or smarter than someone else. Criticism doesn’t abide with them and no depression to fit in. It is what it is, so be it … live another day … to be bobbed or not.

But did Percy have feelings we could share? Of course, he was pleased with any routine showing satisfaction with half-closed eyes that he liked me, purring like a small engine to wake me up but only when my eyes opened. In return, I’d scratch under his chin and lightly stroke his ears, noting a fine line of grey hairs above the rim of his nose with aging and the rims of short fuzzy eyelashes with dark liner underneath.

His main anxiety was to be enclosed, scratching at the door and meowing to go outside where he would wander for hours. Sometimes I’d have to go out looking for him when darkness fell. But he always returned and got a serious scolding, “Bad boy, Percy is a bad boy, no treats.”

But next day our routine was normal, Percy rubbing around my legs meowing for food, and bad feelings dissipated without nurturing any resentments. So we could all learn that misfunctions can happen many times without bad intentions, so how much better to let it go with an apology. There is nothing worse in life’s condition when bad feelings accumulate based on supposition festering into emotional hardships when a kind word could stop breaking the relationship further.

His sense of freedom was keenly important. There was a period of two years when he lived with my brother as I managed cancer treatments. His yard had a high fence as protection in the community that Percy scaled to get to the other side and back alley. So a boardwalk was build along the top with wire to stop escape but somehow Percy found a small corner hole to crawl through; thereafter, called Harry Houdini. He was innately curious, ever vigilant, never leaving the porch without 180 degree search with far superior hearing, exploring around needing no answers because outside was freedom.

Strangely, he loved walking in the rain, getting soaked, coming in to get toweled off and then back outside unafraid of thunder or lightning … perhaps a primordial link to survival of the fittest in the wild. But then, he wasn’t a hunter, neither bird nor mouse, although he did offer a small grey salamander once.

Percy imprinted his life on mine that has made me a better person. It turns out I needed him more than he needed me. Perhaps I had mastery to control him but the choice was to cater and accept each other as special reservoirs as natural beings to survive at our best levels. But there were no preconditions other than acceptance and love as simple as faith we will always be there for each other.

Yes, love is rare especially with people in command-and-demand modes with so many expectations of each other in a complex social hierarchy. But nature is different where communication is based on needs, respect, actions and after effects.

Perhaps this is is the reason for grief and what’s missing now that Percy is gone. Where do I find that center of comfort to hold him close if feeling unhappy or to feel the purring deep in his chest against my cheek? Who can I cuddle watching the evening news as one disruption follows another in fierce competition; so I can still feel the real bond that a simpler existence of peace and home is what really matters? In a world of hardships, where is clear-eyed solace and variant hope found?

Percy opened my soul to nature with more sensitivity to all the other inhabitants, large and small, who need our respect and their balance to co-exist. He was strong, regal, brave, loyal, honest, patient, somewhat anti-social, peaceful, affectionate, appreciative with unconditional love without judgment or complaints … all the imprints I wish I could be. There was no fear in facing death.

He was supposedly healthy with good nutritional food, eating and digesting well enough, scratching posts, playing with toys with no visible disease symptoms, still active outside with possible longer rest periods with age. He had a specific corner on the right bottom side of my bed.

However, perhaps, the Universe had one more message to pass, perhaps, the Universe had one more message to pass on through his sudden death.

Life was never promised on any given Timeline. Too many times it can be cut short too briefly especially for some humans with such long potential. The point is to make sure your affairs are kept up to date to pass on your legacy on your terms as you would wish to be remembered because tomorrow may be too late. This also means to live your life in such a way to be remembered with pride, gratitude and a life well-lived. Avoid the petty grievances and fix the miscommunications because very few people try to be bad on purpose … at least, not in a natural way.

To all pet owners, how fortunate you are to share your lives together. Give them a little more affection. Spent a little more time to show your appreciation.

To all people who live by themselves, adopt a cat and nurture a common existence of cooperation and devotion.

Thank you, my sweet boy, Percy. You have opened my soul to connect to nature with all its beauty, bounty and community and will live in my heart forever.

PS: We got Percy as a kitten and he lived with our family in different households for 16 years, the last 10 with me.