Guest Blog: Farewell to Marie the Cat November 30, 2010Posted by rwf1954 in cat anecdotes, cat stories, cats, death of a pet, loss of a pet, pets, Uncategorized.
Tags: cat anecdotes, cat stories, cats, death of a pet, loss of a pet, pets
Marie the Cat passed away a little over a month ago. This post involves thoughts from her fellow cats, the ones who shared a territory with her:
She’s gone now. For days after they picked her up off the lawn and wrapped her in a sheet, I went to her spot and roared and roared—the humans call it meowing—“Where are you? I know you are sick. Where have you gone? There are supposed to be four cats here! Now I don’t see you anymore! We didn’t always get along, but you are supposed to be here! Where are you?” I got no reply. I stopped roaring from her spot. I guess it’s not her spot anymore. I think things were better when she was here. The other two cats with me now are pretty quiet. That just leaves one of us to keep the humans doing what they’re supposed to do. Just one of us to roar and roar. That’s what I do. My roaring and her little nag-meows—that was when things were really working around here.
Magic’s Previous Posts:
I came to this place with three other cats. I was a kitty—my mommy Marie and my two brothers, Rafiki and Simba were the others. Rafiki got caught in a net—the humans kick round balls into it—and Rafiki froze. A few years later, my brother Simba went over the fence and was bit-up by a dog there. My brother did not see well, and didn’t see the dog in time. The men with loud machines who visit the house from time to time—the humans call them gardeners—were there when both of these terrible events happened. I don’t like gardeners. But now, something happened to my mommy, the one they call Marie. The gardeners weren’t there. She just froze out in the yard. The humans tried to bring me out to look at her, maybe one last time. But this scares me, and I squirmed and squiggled until they let me go somewhere else. I spent twelve years at this place with my mommy, and in her later years, she was too cranky to cuddle with. She especially did not like the younger cats they brought in, and I don’t think she liked that I tried to get along with them. (I like Diva—she’s cute and fluffy and easy to cuddle with. But Magic—he can be one of the rudest, loudest cats I’ve ever been around. Sometimes I have to whack him to remind him of his place.)
I know this means my mommy will not be around anymore. That’s what this freezing thing does to cats. I do miss her, especially when she meowed at the humans for water and food. She did all of that—I never had to. No one will replace her, but I think the humans will keep the food and water coming even without her reminders. They have so far. It was just nice to know my mommy would let them know about it if they were late with it, or forgot. Magic sort of does that, but he’s loud and goofy. I prefer for my mommy to do it, but she’s not around anymore.
One of the old lady cats, the really old, grumpy one, is gone. She did not like me much. Everything I did annoyed her. I gave her lots of room. Will I miss her? Sure. There are three now instead of four. You know, the outside is a very scary place. Suddenly the old lady stopped moving. And the inside is also a very scary place. Those two-legged cats are big and make noises and move things, and grab us when maybe we just want to be invisible. One thing about that old lady cat—she hardly ever shrank from anything. She got right up to those big two-legged cats, the ones called humans, and told them what she thought. She got right under their feet, without fear or flinching. I will never be like her, and she was sometimes difficult with me. But it was nice to watch one of us tell the big ones what-for. I wish she could have gotten them to stop scaring me before she went away. I sometimes try to be like her. She used to pee on towels and sheets on the floor. But when I try to do it, the two-legged cats get real mad. They yell and scare me. If that old lady cat was still around, I would watch her, and try to learn how she did that without getting into trouble. I would have just stayed invisible around her, and watched, and learned. But I don’t see her anymore.
Marie’s Post, Just Before She Passed Away: Marie Sets the Record Straight
Marie’s ashes will be spread around the yard she lived in and loved so much for almost twelve years.