Eulogy of the faithfully departed

This is the eulogy of my father’s cat, MC.  It is a nice, respectful reflection on a deserving feline.  She will be missed – Dr. D.

M. C. – A remembrance of my feline companion of 18 years, December 4, 2017

Back in November, 1999, when I was the manager at Petco, my pet groomer mentioned that since my cat, Snookers, was put down due to old age and illness, she just had a litter of Ragdoll Breed in Hermosillo, Mexico, suggested I may be interested in obtaining another cat.  I agreed and the next weekend she would bring the cat to the store.

The following Sunday, she arrived with a blue-eyed, long-haired Ragdoll kitten. Now she said that her mother was stopped at the border for not having a current visa, but no problem for my pet groomer, smuggling the kitten into our country under her coat.  Upon the delivery of the kitten, she said, “Mr. PIbb, it is a wet back without papers”, so we named her, M.C., for the Mexican Connection in Hermosillo, Mexico.

Over the years she was a delightful companion with whom I was to share the many entertaining experiences; one being M.C.’s ability to prop herself on the arm of the blue chair in my library, batting rolled up bits of paper and the plastic rings from Gatorade tops as I tossed them to her.  I had a small cardboard carton underneath a shelf of books with a good supply and when she wanted to play, remember when she wanted to play, she would nudge the carton, maybe paw at the box to let me know that she wanted to play.  Yes, as I pitched the bits  of rolled up paper balls or the plastic rings, she did very well in hitting them back across the top of the computer screen, into the window blinds, and to the back of the desk where it would be lost until I got down on my knees to retrieve; and I did do all the retrieving, she never did learn to put back the “toys” into the carton, when she was through playing, she just turned away and left me alone with the remains of our play on the floor.

A second, being a morning companion while I was performing my morning shaving ritual.   M.C. would lay on the top of the toilet tank, which had a small white hand towel and the front of the towel had seven cat images embroidered with light grey thread, comfortably.  Other times she would lay near the sink bowl and would test the fresh warm water in the bowl, using her paw to drink, as I splash the warm water on my face, preparing for the application of the shaving cream. Then when the water became soapy, she just laid quietly by, disinterested in what I was doing, curled, somewhat playfully, her tail flickering back and forth, barely touching the soapy water.

I’m planning to be gone for about a month to Virginia, enjoying the good Dr’s family for Christmas. Being that M.C. was eighteen years old, up-chucking her premium food couple times a week and my not wanting to have a person just come into the house to see that her litter box was cleaned up and ample food and water – but not having any interaction with M.C., along with a short discussion with my veterinarian on the possibility of putting M.C. down; reconciling the above, it was agreed that it would be a convenient time for her to be euthanized.

December 4, 2017, was the date set to terminate the relationship between me, the caretaker of M.C., and my feline companion of eighteen years.  On the morning of December 4, an appointment set for 10:00 am, I picked up M.C. in the huge bath towel that was her sleeping quarters on the floor between the dresser drawer and the nightstand, bundled snugly, so I could drive to the Pet Clinic safely at 9:36 am.  Arriving at the Clinic, under the towering plaza clock at 9:50 am, I filled out and signed the necessary papers updating M.C.’s clinical record:  female, spayed, Ragdoll breed, with birthdate of 11/01/1999.  Upon completion, paid for the injection, Euthanasia, and cremation disposal fees. While I was sitting quietly in a small room with a table which had a blue snowflake patterned, disposable blanket, stroking M.C. softly, she looked up, with her aging eyes of trust, as the door opened and T.J., the office manager, carefully picked up M.C. from my arms using the snowflake blanket from the table, saying that a paw print would be available in about a week for my remembrance and that the procedure of injection/euthanasia would be completed shortly. Since I had requested my leaving prior to the procedure, I sadly departed.

Back home by 10:15 am; washed the towels M.C. had used, threw away the round bed located next to my bedroom window; her perch to watch over my backyard of birds and moving branches. Tossed the small amount of remaining litter, cat food and the circulating water dish into the trash can. I gave the “Cat Tree” to neighbor Ed.

At 11:56 am, I heard the loud, wail cry of a cat, a cat cry . . . possibly M.C. as she felt the effects of death, the euthanasia taking her life?

I will shed more quiet tears as I indeed miss my feline companion; at the door upon my entering, her no more wanting to play on the blue library chair, nor the resting on the round cat bed perched on the stand especially made for her window watching enjoyment, nor the personal relationship during my morning shaving ritual.

Goodbye M.C.: . . . goodbye to all my feline friends and companions.  Alas, besides M.C., Snookers, TLC (the little cat), and Buffy, all gone, but still fondly remembered.

~ Your old, sentimental, human caretaker