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.