2020 hasn’t been a great year for anyone but when we thought it
couldn’t get any worse, it did.
Yesterday we lost a dear little friend, our Clarence.
Clarence pushed his way into my life when we were both in dire need
of a good friend. We remained friends
for the rest of his life. My sons are 18
and 19 and they barely remember a time when Clarence wasn’t a part of our
family.
Like most cats he was, politically, somewhere on the right side of
AOC, but not by a lot. Even so, if he
were given the opportunity, I’m sure he’d have shredded the likes of Nancy
Pelosi or Ilhan Omar. He still found his
niche in a Conservative home. When there
was puddy-tat work to be done he was always ready, willing, and much more than
able. When you live in a house that’s
over 100 years old the services of a good mouser are always welcome. Clarence never ate his kills or presented
them to me in bed. He would wait for a
convenient time and lay them at my feet.
Then we’d go to the bathroom together, and he’d participate in the
burial at sea... front feet on the toilet seat and his head moving in a
circular motion that was synced to the mouse’s departure to the sewer system. Then we’d crack a can of tuna and he would
accept payment for a job well done.
On one occasion a bat somehow got into our home. I had a neighbor visiting at the time and she
was busy freaking out, but I had the presence of mind to call Clarence. He always came when he was called. He sat in the middle of the kitchen floor and
watched the bat fly back and forth, again and again. The neighbor derided him and commented that
he was “stupid” and “retarded.” Before
long he began rocking back and forth while he watched the bat. I knew a little bit about how cats operate,
and I told the neighbor that he was doing the necessary trigonometry in his
head. Then she laughed at him and ridiculed
him by calling him “autistic.”
It helps one appreciate this display of feline skill if one
realizes the bat, in its travels back and forth, was just skimming the ceiling and
my ceilings are just under nine feet tall.
When Clarence’s internal navigational and targeting computers reached
their solutions he gave a mighty leap.
Somehow, I can still see this in my mind, in slow motion. When he reached that point where his thrust
became equal with the gravitational force, that brief moment when you’re neither
rising nor falling, when you’re hanging motionless in the air, the bat flew
within his reach and one mighty swing with that right hand and the bat bounced
off the wall and fell to the floor. I
don’t know if it was dead or unconscious, but I scooped it up in a dish towel and
took it outside and tossed it into the trash can.
When I came back into the house Clarence was glaring at my neighbor. She said he’d been doing it long enough and
hard enough that she was beginning to feel intimidated. I said to Clarence, “Dude, I know she’s
stupid and you know she’s stupid but now she knows she’s stupid, too.” He was satisfied with that and jumped up into
a chair and waited for me to open a can of tuna. That’s when he informed me the going
piece-work rate for bats was considerably higher than for mice. Little Leftist that he was, he still believed
in a good day’s work for a good day’s pay... with added emphasis on a good
day’s pay.
I have sixteen years’ worth of stories like this. We didn’t simply lose a cat yesterday, we
lost an integral, contributing member of our family... one we all loved very
much.
Off an on throughout his life Clarence has suffered from pollen
allergies. This spring he began having
ten to fifteen second coughing fits once every other day or so. His vet gave him steroids and they seemed to
help for awhile but about two weeks ago the coughing episodes increased to one and
sometimes two per day. This time the
steroids helped less than before. This
week the coughing fits increased to several per day and they were more
intense.
Yesterday, the vet asked permission to use their new x-ray machine that she
said would give her a better look at his heart and lungs. Charley told her to go ahead and a few
minutes later she came back into the room and the tears streaming down her face
told the story. She told Charley that
Clarence had advanced lung cancer. His
prognosis was bad, but she said he could be comfortable and in no pain for
weeks or even months. She did warn him
that if Clarence’s breathing became labored that he was in pain... and
appropriate measures should be taken.
Clarence did very well the rest of the day until, literally, five
minutes after the vet’s office closed, his condition degraded rapidly. I immediately phoned the emergency vet’s
office and by the time the proper arrangements had been made Clarence was in
obvious distress. Charley had him in his
carrier by then and he suggested I stay home... that I sit this one out. I knew why he said that, and I’d been saying
my goodbyes all afternoon.
Charley called from the highway and said that, as usual, as soon as they got on
the highway Clarence calmed right down and seemed to be comfortable. He called again from the parking lot of the
vet’s office and this time his tears gave it away. Just
as he pulled in Clarence had trouble breathing and Charley opened his carrier
and Clarence calmed right down and looked up at him and he had the impression
that Clarence was saying, “Tell everyone I love them, but I have to go now.” He folded his little arms, placed his head on
them... and died.
He will be sorely missed for a very long
time.