'Old blue eyes....

USA Today had a nice article from a reporter who lost his cat after 10 years to cancer:

http://www.usatoday.com/life/lifestyle/pets/2010-09-21-sinatra21_CV_N.htm

An excerpt:


How do you sum up 10 years of a life?

I'm a better dad because of Sinatra. The responsibility of caring for something totally reliant on your love and attention is good training for any future parent, with many side lessons in the values of playtime and patience.

If Jill or I were sad, sick or hurting, Sinatra could always be counted on to offer a nudge of his head or a lick from his sandpaper tongue. The greatest thing he taught me was that simply being together was enough.

He was our everyday, the mischievous little fellow spread out across the fabric of daily life. Among the thousands of things I miss now that he's gone, most of all is him running to meet me at the door, eager to be picked up.

Like with any great pet, to hold him was to know that you were home


I sent an e-mail to the author:


I read your article on Sinatra, your cat. My condolences on your loss; I lost my cat, my best friend, Marla this July 4th. She was 17. As with Sinatra, the end came suddenly. I knew Marla was getting old, always hungry but never seeming to eat enough. One week she was doing great. Then she went downhill over the weekend. We believe Marla was waiting for all her people - my mother-in-law had been away for the week - to come home before she died. Even then she was a fighter, taking a step before collapsing, as if to tell us, "It's OK. Feel great, just need a little rest, that's all."

Like you, I have many stories about Marla, and I swear I can probably tell a story for each day of the 17 years I had her. Some of them are on www.remembermarla.blogspot.com, which I unfortunately don't get to update as often as I would like to or should.

My wife and my in-laws were surprised that, like Sinatra, Marla had her whistle and would come running when called. They were also surprised that Marla was so "dog-like" and would not only follow me around the house - as she got older, though, her visits upstairs to our bedroom got fewer and fewer - but would just sit and look up at me when I was in the family room watching TV. Not lying down - just sitting up. No matter my schedule, Marla would seem to know when I was coming home, waiting by the door. "That cat just loves you," my wife would say, never quite understanding why Marla would bond with her in the same way.

"You have someone that's been a part of your life for 17 years," I said. It's simple, but true. Marla and I moved at least six or seven times since we had each other, and through it all we were each other's constant. One place I moved to didn't allow pets, so Marla became the office cat for a while - this is when I worked for another (non-Gannett) paper - and after a while, I slept in the office so we could be together.

Thanks again for your article. Like you, when Marla's heart stopped, a part of mine did as well.