I’ve been stalling on writing this one for a while now. I’ve even considered not writing it at all. But the need to write about it is not subsiding in the least. So here goes…
Two weeks ago Roberta and I had to put our cat, Remington, to sleep. You never fully realize just how much these small furry creatures infiltrate every corner of your life until they are no longer there. It’s been two weeks and I still wake up every morning wondering why Rem isn’t sitting on the landing outside our bedroom waiting for me to get up and feed him. It only takes a second to remember why. The heart sinks, and I wonder how long before I stop forgetting he isn’t there.
I’ve had three cats in my life and Remington is by far the most human of the lot. I know, we all tend to anthropomorphize to one degree or another, but Remington was scary sometimes.
From the beginning this Siamese/Russian Blue/Manx cross just did not behave like other cats I’ve had. He loved to play fetch, chasing a small nut and bolt wrapped inside a plastic baggy till my arm wore out. He had this almost human need to be around people, never aloof like other cats. Wherever we were – he was.
His penchant for conversation was enough to make you wonder about reincarnation. The most bizarre example of this was after his evening meal. He would wander over to the patio door and then look out into the back yard expounding to the neighbourhood about Lord knows what for about five minutes. I’m not talking a few meows here – I’m talkin’ full blown sentences made up of meows, mews, grunts, purrs, and other all too human sounding syllables complete with syntax, inflection and identifiable punctuation marks!
For over 15 years, from when he was just a kitten of seven weeks, my wife and I have been blessed with his companionship. He warmed our laps and our hearts, filling the quiet moments with the sound of laughter and contentment – ours.
Thank you Remington. You are greatly missed.