We get to participate in a lot of happy tails and shining moments at Black Cat Rescue. At times, we are also honored by those who share heart warming stories of friendship and loss with our volunteers. This is one of those stories.
My sweetest friend died today.
I found him in a dumpster in 2002 when he was 6-8 weeks old. Outside a convenience store in Montgomery, TX. He was the only one alive in a box with 3 dead siblings. A jet black cat with no hope for any future.
I named him Emanon, which is “No name” backwards, because I had no clue what to call him.
He developed diabetes. I was told I should just put him to sleep, but I could no more do that to him than I could my own child.
We have these … these cats, you know?
They’re stubborn and independent. They don’t care if we call them unless there’s food involved. They will never protect us. We’re not part of their “pack”. They understand only a basic level of territoriality. They know where they can be, won’t be, shouldn’t be, and will never be.
They know who we are. They recognize us, our faces, our voices, our smells, our mannerisms. They know who to turn to for ear rubs and belly scratches, should the mood present itself.
We sit in utter exasperation at their litter box smells and constant whining and they live in constant frustration at us for limiting their perching space and closing off their roaming territories. We chastise them for tearing up our furniture while they exist in a state of utter terror that we might, at any time, vacuum the rug.
We equally hate and love each other, but we need each other. They accept who we are, no matter how drunk or poor or old; and we accept them for the occasional humor and purrs and quiet moments in the early morning over coffee.
They are like us. Their loyalty is fleeting, their trust easily destroyed, their forgiveness not easily earned; but their friendship lasts beyond death.
When you lose a cat you don’t lose a pet. You lose a piece of yourself.
I just wanted to share that.
This is Emanon. His family sent us the last picture they took of him. We have never met Emanon. We have never met his family. However, we are very touched that Emanon’s family shared this story with us recently. It reminds us about the greatness of simple things, things are truly monumental in all of our lives. Rest in peace, friend.
I am so sorry for your loss, our fur babies are such a part of us. Healing thoughts sent your way.
What a sweet baby. So sorry for your loss. What you wrote is so true. You lose a part of your heart and soul when they leave you.
That´sad. But think of him being in a perfect place all healthy and happy. Black cats are really something. your words “When you lose a cat you don’t lose a pet. You lose a piece of yourself.” are more than true.
I’m so sorry for your loss. This broke my heart. We lost our first black cat, Coco, of 12 years, a few months ago. What someone thought was a “throw-away,” one-eyed kitten, living under a bush, starving and surviving on crickets, blessed us one cold, rainy night and brought utter joy to us for the time he allowed us to live with him. Thank you for sharing Emanon’s life story with us. >^..^<
That was one of the nicest stories I have read in a long time. So sorry for their loss.
I’m sorry for your loss, and do know the pain that it brings.
It truly is unfair that our feline (and canine) friends spend to little time in our lives. But they teach us lessons (including a good deal of patience). They love us unconditionally (and yes, I believe that animals love). They trust those worthy of gaining and keeping their trust.
Kate, I’m sorry for your loss as well.
Those that come into our lives in the ways that some of these cats do, are meant to be found, to be a part of a family. As was said above, we need each other.
I’m living with one such black cat now.
I agree about losing a piece of yourself, and I’ve lost more pieces over the past four or five years than I care to count.
It never gets easier. It never hurts less.
Take care.
I’ve been in love with black cats for more than forty years now, and I understand all too well the loss Emanon’s family feels. To lose a cat is…. it is as they say “to lose part of yourself”, if only because you’ve given so much of yourself to let the new life in.
And black cats… They give so much more than other cats (imho). Midnight Sun trusted and brought me to see her babies when they were born in a deserted woodshed, and her sisters Starlight and Shadow, they would lay in the sun, warm and sleek and purr next to me while I read a book. Asmodean, who tried to hide in the refrigerator he was so scared when he first came to us, became my constant companion. Charity with her torn eye and her wall-shaking purr who brought me more birds than I wished. Bebe with his “I own the world” dance in front of the other cats…
I do understand. Thank you for sharing your love with black cats.
Dear Eden,
This sounds like the makings of such a wonderful book. I hope you are on your way to writing it.
Sincerely,
Morgan
You have my deepest condolances on the loss of your beloved. My only regret is that I can’t change things for you the same way I’d wished someone else could have changed things for me and aaaahhhh —- yes, I know the feeling all too well. Just like you, I lost “my sweetest friend” this October 18th past. I didn’t find him in a dumpster like you, instead, I found him the last one sitting in the back corner of his cage in a feed store around the very same age (8 weeks) – his siblings all vanished from him long before the late afternoon hour set in and in only the single moment that I first saw him, I was “smitten with that kitten”…….and the rest was history for 17 years. I won’t narrate the details of our story, but you get the idea. When the time came for us to part, such a large part of me wanted to “go with him” to whereever he was going – I prefer to think of it as crossing the “Rainbow Bridge” but we all have our own time for that and I believe one day we will all be reunited again in a place of such euphoria than we have ever known. Godspeed the healing of your wounded soul, my friend, you have our thoughts of love and peace.
Two kittens arrived on our terrace last winter. Two brothers. One was black and white and the other black tip of the tail to the tip of the nose. We did not plan to keep them because we already had a cat, but we have food and shelter and … we ended up adopting them. We love cats or you do not like them but when you have fallen for them … whatever their colors you can only love them!
We have a black cat yes but we have only happiness to share his life despite what popular beliefs.
Sweet thoughts are with you Emanon, you were a beautiful cat and certainly the best friends and confidants. Rest in peace to the Cloud Animals.
I was greatly moved by your beautiful writing – about Emanon – and cats in general. My rescues and I feel your loss of your wonderful friend, and wish you only the best memories of the life you saved and the life you shared.
I am so sorry for your loss. My sister just recently loss her best friend Sam. A black cat she adopted in 2000. You are right about losing a piece of ourselves. My sister is grieving terribly her loss. Even so, I can’t help but think about how you (and my sis) gave your kitty a wonderful life and changed the future. Rest in peace Emanon.
I am so sorry. There is nothing anyone can say that will make you feel better. Thank you for sharing this and than you for taking care of Emanon.