Eulogy

Before I begin I must say this : I hate this keyboard. I'm going to write to get things off my mind and my chest so any typos or errors you see are 90% because of this keyboard.

My cat died yesterday. This doesn't seem like much to you but this cat had been in my life for 15 years. That's an extrodinarly long time for a feline. Considering how my heart has heavied and the feelings I carry I feel that it is best that I express who this cat was to me and what he ment to the family.

We got the cat when I was 9 years old. I still remember the first time I laid eyes on him. I don't remember how the weather was that day, what I was wearing, who we got him from, not even what time of day it was. Nothing but that cat. I remember he was cowering under a rocking chair. I knelt down and saw the fear in his eyes. He was already medium size by this time. Not quite a kitten, but not fully grown. I reached out my arms, grabbed him and held him till he calmed down. I just held him. It's all that I can remember.

I remember naming him with my mom. We couldn't think of anything. Me, being the innocent 9 year old I was, said 'He's a boy cat! Let's name him Boy Cat!' - Thus it was said, thus it was done. B.C. had a name.

This cat became a true companion of me and my brother. Tormented through his early years of our childlike innocence and curiousity B.C. held through. He ran to our mother for protection when he had enough but the amount of things he put up with was phenominal when I look back on it all. The 'Do cat's really always land on thier feet' repeated tests. The 'What can B.C. fit into' repeated tests. Not to mention the lack of knowladge of cats all togther, our young nature and our pure facination made that cats life surely a living hell for a few years. Yet he stood through it all. I should of noticed then how much he felt at home. How much he was willing to fight for what he wanted.

Over the years B.C. made many moves with us. Different states, vets offices, all the while comming closer and closer with the family, and especially with me. Over my teenage years he became one of my only true friends. Isolated on the mountain during highschool he saw me through alot of lonley times, alot of tears and anytime I needed a friend or some comfort it's like he always knew he needed to be there. He'd jump up on my lap, lay down, purr. Never really asking for attention, just trying to GIVE some. Another facinating thing about this cat. You could tell he cared.

In his later years he became very overweight. He produced arthritus in all four feet, lost most of his teeth including three of his fangs. (I refuse to call them 'canines' . That's just insulting) Never-the-less he carried on like a trooper. He found new ways to tell us what he wanted, and dispite his old age cranky attitude you could tell he truely made an effort to be the cat he used to be. He'd still try to play when he felt up to it. He still tried to go nuts when you put cat nip on the floor, even if it hurt him. He still loved to climb up on laps, even making the effort (and I mean effort in the highest form possible) to jump up when he felt like he could, not 'when he felt like it'.

Several times in his last years he became very ill. We got worried, scared, yet every time he'd bounce back within a few days. This cat was a fighter. But what was he fighting for? It is said that cats live for the moment. They don't care about anything, make US thier masters and live with us as long as we produce what thier needs desire. This cat seemed different. Looking back now there were so many times in his life that any normal human being in his situation would of given up and pulled the plug. Not B.C. . B.C. liked where he was. He liked who he was with. How he was treated. He loved our family and thought it worth going through the pain a little longer for. Several, several times.

B.C. lasted alot longer than any of us expected. We all talked about 'when he would go'. How we would miss him. How we would be sad. Think about him. Talk about him. How he was 'the best cat we've ever seen' .

He was. All that and more.

Not only was he a great cat. He was a great friend. Compassionate, caring, devoted and above all he saw us worth pain. He saw us worth sickness. He saw us worthy. So many times he could of given up and stopped the pain. He could of been independent and lived for the moment. Instead he chose to count his moments and get as many of them as he could. He fought. He struggled with everything that came his way. He won.

Though he died suddenly last night I know he won. I know that as death looked him in the eyes and told him 'this is it' B.C. still looked back and said in his best meow speak 'Just because I can't lift my claws to scratch your bones one more time doesn't mean I wouldn't.' If he could still be here he would be, happy with his pain. Happy with his suffering. His neasuea. His bladder problems. His toothlessness. His everything. Just so he could lay in my lap one more time. Just so he could be held one more time and be called my brother.

You won, B.C.

I'll never forget that. Or you. I love you man.