Posted on 01/07/2011 3:01:43 PM PST by nickcarraway
I can still picture the morning I was sitting with a dozen mewing kittens at the animal shelter in Brewster. There was a slight movement between two pillows on the far side of the cage. That's where I found Eddie. He was on his back trying to get some sleep "in this lousy joint," as I imagined an independent cat like him would say.
He was a plain gray tabby, as common as a housefly.
"He's the one," I said to my husband, Bob.
Eddie swaggered to the food bowl, pushing four kittens out of the way.
"He's so ratty," Bob said, picking him up. "And he only has one whisker."
Eddie tenderly pressed his face against mine. Then he put his sharp baby teeth around my gold earring and yanked with the strength of a sumo wrestler.
Eddie had chutzpah and he knew how to use it.
That first night home, he was restless. I calmed him with a song from the musical "Oliver!" I sang it softly, as a slow ballad, "Food, glorious food, hot sausage and mustard." He closed his eyes and purred. From then on, that song always soothed him.
Eddie got up before we did. I knew that from the sound of breaking glass.
We found him on the mantel where my Sydenstricker glass plate used to be. The floor was covered with glass shards. He quickly put his paw behind a blue china vase and chucked that off the mantel, too.
At first I felt bad. But that didn't last. Things are just things. Our pets are family.
While we were sleeping, Eddie bit our earlobes, toes and fingers. He preferred protruding parts. Imagine what poor Bob endured.
When we'd watch TV in bed, he'd scratch us for attention. Eventually I learned that there are times when family, friends or pets are more important than TV. And when are those times? Always.
Years ago, I was on the phone with a rabbi. He asked about my mother's interests for his sermon at her funeral. I said, "Mom loved painting and ..."
That's when Eddie came running in with something in his mouth. He had opened the new box of tampons I bought that morning. He started flinging the tampon in the air like it was a toy mouse.
I couldn't stop laughing. The rabbi assumed I was having a traumatic stress reaction and said, "When we lose a loved one, we're often not in control of our emotions and that's OK. It's fine to laugh."
That cracked me up even more. I managed to blurt out, "She made jewelry!" before seeing the tampon go flying across the room. Then I hung up — on a rabbi yet. Oy vay.
Eddie opened cabinets by putting his paws around the knobs. Vitamin bottles made great rattling noises upon crash landings.
We bought childproof magnets at the hardware store. Eddie simply tugged a little harder.
Back to the hardware store for hook-and-eye locks. Eddie flipped the hooks open with one paw.
Back to the hardware store for deadbolt locks. He easily slid those bolts to the side.
The guy at the hardware store already had combination locks on the counter.
Eddie came into my life when, because of an illness, I needed to learn a lot from him. And I did.
To Eddie, obstacles were challenges. When barriers thwarted him, he never quit trying. Words like "can't" and "hopeless" were only beliefs. Beliefs can be changed.
For the past two years, Eddie had been sick. I spent lots of time massaging his face — he always loved that. One afternoon, I used my fingers to comb through the lovely set of whiskers he'd eventually grown. That's when I discovered the side-effect from the medicine he was taking. As I gently rubbed along his face, his whiskers came off, all but one. I placed them in a tiny needlepoint purse my mother made for me.
He came into our lives with one whisker. And that is how he would leave.
Three months ago, on a quiet Sunday afternoon, I kissed his forehead and whispered, "I love you." He looked up at me. His face showed the love he was never successful at hiding.
As Bob softly sang, "Food, glorious food, hot sausage and mustard," Eddie took his last breath.
While his body was still warm, I cradled him in my arms and rocked him. I held his head so he was nestled against my neck. "Eddie, you will always be a part of me." I didn't want to let him go from my arms. But Bob, so lovingly and slowly, gently took him away.
And so, I honor the life of my wonderful cat who, from the beginning, stood apart from all the others. My beautiful cat, my Eddie, just a plain gray tabby, as common as a housefly.
Saralee Perel is a retired psychotherapist. Her column appears the first Friday of the month. You can reach her at 508-428-8676 or sperel@saraleeperel.com. Her website is www.saraleeperel.com.
Thank you
“You have the manners of vermin and the personality of parasitic fungus. Do you spend your spare time visiting the cancer ward mocking terminally ill patients? “ Your assessment skills are *unparalleled*, GB!
However, a little voice tells me that the disruptors become discouraged and leave when they are ignored. Or zotted.
I loved the cat story!
He *looks* like a cat with chutzpah. Very beautiful kitty, RIP Eddie.
that was a great story
Eddie looks a lot like Muffin (1982-1997).
Thank-you for the kitty ping Slings and Arrows, this story touched me very much! :)=^..^=
I think that poster has cats confused with dachshunds. I have never read a more perfect description of the typical wiener dog : "...sneaky, manipulative, looks down on you, and cannot really be trained...". That's a dachshund to the T (or to the D).
Or it would be if you added "greedy, spiteful, and Machiavellian" to the list of character flaws personality traits.
OTOH, I have never met a cat that wasn't sweet, loving, affectionate, and friendly. How DID cats ever get saddled with the inappropriate adjective "aloof"? Some take longer to warm up to strangers than others, but most seem to live for people who want to pet and stroke them.
My condolences to all on this thread who have lost a beloved pet, or will be facing a loss in the near future. I currently have a 14 year old male chihuahua and a 15 year old female dachshund, so I know it's only a matter of time.:-(
I’ve never seen so many posts get pulled on a pet thread. I’m sure the poster was trolling for outrage. The moderator took him to the woodshed so I’m sure he’ll behave for a day or two.
In the animal kingdom there is always a range of intelligence within a species. You were blessed to have a Richard Feynman among cats to get to know.
De nada, chica.
BTDT, huh?
Great story. Is there a focus control for my monitor?
I wake up to the sound of something crashing to the floor at least three times a week. I love cats; they’re the greatest pets (for me dogs come in second, although we always have to have at least one dog) to have and our dog gets along with them as well.
I don’t understand why people click on cat threads if they don’t like cats; it’s rather pathetic.
Well, that was just beautiful. Thanks for posting it. I needed a cry tonight especially after the Saints lost to the Seahawks!
Thank you for your comments on my column, “The Cat Who Taught Me Chutzpah.” I am honored that you posted Eddie’s story. Did someone from the Cape Cod Times send the column to you? Otherwise, how on earth did you find me?
Saralee Perel Feel free to e-mail, if you’d prefer: sperel@saraleeperel.com
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