Sad day

Ever since my son can remember, his cat Minx was always there, with him. When my son was around two, we decided to goto the Calgary Humane Society and get a cat. While we were there looking at all of the cats, we looked at Minx in the cage, pet her, then went on to look at other cats. After awhile of looking around, and wandering throughout the place trying to decide upon which cat we would take, she got too close to the cage where Minx was. Minx reached through the cage and caught my wife’s sweater with her claw. That made up our mind right there. We’ve joked about it ever since, that Minx actually picked us, not the other way around.

Minx back then was about 2 years old. She had a floppy belly like she had had a litter of kittens, but we were never told if she actually did or not. She was gentle and quiet, her meows were always barely audible. She was well trained, and for the most part stayed off the counters and tables (as far as we know!). She always had the cleanest, shiniest sleek black fur you’ve ever seen on a cat. She liked to go outside, but she wasn’t an outdoors cat.

At first my son and her had a very trying time of getting used to each other. MY son was around two as well and he chased Minx around the house. He pulled her tail, he picked and poked at her. He picked her up and carried her away, put her into things and even laid on her. She loved all of the attention and always came back for more. The more he dished out to her, the more she came back.

My favorite recollection of the two of them together is: One evening, Minx was sitting on our ottoman. Joe crawled up to it, as if to sneak up on her. He layed on the floor and reached up and started to poke at her, teasing her. She knew he was there, but she waited for her chance. Then he started to pop his head up and play a bit of “peek-a-boo” with her. Again she waited until he got close enough. He popped his head up to scare her and she reached out with her claw and stuck it right into his forehead. It seemed to all happen in slow motion. Minx calmly reached out, stuck out her claws and stuck them into his forehead. He of course was shocked that she could actually move that fast and it took a second or two for the pain she was inflicting on him to actually sink in and once it wore off he started to scream in pain.

Its this kind of give and take relationship that they’ve had over the years. He would do something crazy to her, yet she’d always come back for more and if it got too much for her, she’d let him know with a scratch or two. I think he still complained to me about getting scratched by her up til about two weeks ago. Yes, she was still alive then. She was at least as old as my son, who is 18 years old. She died last night. She was “The best cat a boy could ever have” – Joe.

2 Responses to “Sad day”

  1. Di Says:

    My Sympathy to Joe.
    That is sad
    Di

  2. Ian Says:

    I totally understand. It was the same way for me growing up. Our cat was already three years old when I was born. He died at 19, when I was 16, and it was a really fundamental shift in life. I was an only child, had gone through moving as part of a military family — the cat had always been a constant. Pets are indeed the greatest companions. My sympathies, as well.


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