Cribsheet: The Bottom of Sidney's Ninth.

My cat Sid just died. He was 15 or 16 years old and succumbed to cancer. I had him for 13 years during which he warmed my heart and lightened my days by being a warm, smart and funny companion. He was a friendly big guy who would tag along with you to whatever room you went to and just curl up nearby for the pleasure of being close. He made friendly eye contact all the time. At night, Sid would jump onto my bed and slide under my left arm so he could put his head on my shoulder, and his paw on my arm. It's easy to take cat company for granted but I am realizing how much he was a part of of days being good for me.


Love at First Sight:

I met Sid in Eugene, Oregon 1995 while shopping for a kitten to bring some joy into a house where my former sweetheart's mother was dying of cancer. We were looking for a sprightly little fuzz-ball and found one who promptly leaves this story by quickly finding another home after becoming a gigantic pain in the ass. However, while we were looking for this kitten I spotted a really large black cat lying in the exact center of the wide open cat room. The other cats were giving him a wide berth so he was easy to spot. He had a mellow gravitas about him. I went over and gave him my hand to sniff and patted his head. He gave me a friendly look right in the eyes. I continued browsing but I kept going back to say hi more. We played a little and when he stood up I was amazed by what a big strong cat he was - just solid muscle. We decided we'd best get the little fuzzy kitten. I rubbed his head and said goodbye and he gave me a serious look.

We drove the 15 miles back to Eugene and I couldn't stop thinking about this cat.
I was feeling sadder and sadder to leave him there and when we pulled up in front of the house and I had tears in my eyes. I said to Megan, "I have to go back and get that cat." to her credit she had no problem with that and off we went.

When we got back to the pound and told the lady there that we wanted that big guy in the middle of the room she got tears in her eyes too. She told us everyone there loved him and he was only a day or two from his last meal. As we gathered him up and finished the paperwork other workers came up beaming to say how pleased they were.

We settled in and began a happy life together. He was so brave and calm he made friends with dogs. Every morning after breakfast he would saunter over to the neighbors who would let him in their garden gate. We often saw him in the neighbor's yard sleeping in a pile with their big dog (and regularly eating his food. He got the name Sid from a book my niece was reading about a big black cat named Sid who lived in six different houses under six different names and ate 6 dinners a day.

Some fun memories of Sid:

• He would "count coup" on Megan. He would lie in the middle of the hallway so you had no choice but to step right over him and as she stepped over he would whap her on the leg and run away like: hee hee hee! (and he never did it to me.)
• He drank water from a cupped paw like a camper next to a stream.
• If he was on the wrong side of a closed door he stuck his front paws under the door, grabbed hold and shook it creating an incredible racket.
• He was an indulgent "single Dad"to intense and quirky Ira , our next kitten who endlessly messed with him.

The Descent

I guess he started looking sick about a year ago, losing weight at a frightening rate. Finally about a month ago he stopped eating. I bought every treat I could to tempt him - my house looked like a cat cafeteria. Maddeningly, he wanted food but almost seemed not to recognize food as food.

Isaac's Mom who is a nurse came and taught me how to give him fluids and shots. It freaked me out to stick needles in him but he was dehydrated and hurting. His quality of life was still touched with enough moments of cat happiness: He slept in the sun up on the deck. He watched the tall grass waving and lifted his head at birdsong. He slept beside me with his paw on my arm, his head on my shoulder. He bonked heads, affectionately.

Besides, It's a damn serious thing to take away a minute of someones life. I struggled with worry and fear, noting every little loss wondering where the line was. The morphine kept him free of pain but he was so delicate so weak on his legs. He staggered to the litter box, keeping the rules of dignity to the end. I warned Isaac that Sid was very sick, that I was afraid we probably wouldn't have him much longer. He came up to Sid and patted his head. "Always remember we love you." he said.

Finally on Saturday night after I had put Isaac to bed and I lay down on the floor beside the little makeshift bed with heating pad I had made for Sid and I just held him in my arms. He bumped my head a little with his and looked at me, haggardly. He touched his paw on my arm over and over: with an almost "there, there" kind of feeling. I went out to the living room to do some work on the computer and in a few minutes when I got up I found him there beside me, he had dragged himself out to lie beside me with literally the last of his strength.

I picked him up and cuddled him and laid him on his bed before going to sleep.

I woke in the morning with a flat foreboding feeling. Sid was stiff and cold, one leg bent awkwardly beneath him as if he had tried to rise again before dying. Isaac was running around the house being a happy six year old.

I made him some breakfast. He watched TV. I went out and dug a grave in a sunny spot in front of our Douglas Fir (Doug) where the red clovers are blooming like mad.

After breakfast I turned off the TV and told Isaac that after being so sick, Sidney had died. Isaac cocked his head like a dog hearing a strange noise and glanced over at Sid, confused. I said "come on, let's go see him." We walked over and sat with Sid. Isaac said: "His eyes are open"

I said, "but they aren't seeing anything. Sid has left his body behind and he's in absolutely no pain now. Do you want to touch him?"

He reached out and stroked Sid's head and sat quiet. "Can I watch some more TV?"

"OK."

I continued working on the grave. Finally it was big enough and cleaned out enough. I got a Chinese red cloth, laid Sid on it and folded three corners up to his neck. Isaac came to look as I folded the cloth over Sid's head.

We went outside and I gently laid him in the bottom of the grave with his head pointing toward the house. We both started to cry. "You were a wonderful and loyal friend. "I sobbed "Thank you for coming into my life."

We laid small containers of food and water next to him and Isaac scattered a whole container of catnip over Sid's body. I covered Sid with soil almost to the top of the grave and we planted flower bulbs in the top two inches and laid a flat paving stone over his head. I have never understood neolithic funerals better than I do today.

And we cried some more. Isaac said: "I hate Spring."

Me: "Because Sydney died in Spring?"

Isaac: "Yup."

I decided we better get the hell away from the house and out to the beach - not just sit there in misery. Isaac dragged his feet and didn't want to go. "I hate everything."

"There are many things in life still to love," I said "the beach is a good place to remember how much we love Sid and also see how beautiful the world is. "

He said: "The world is a dark place."

I said: "The world is dark and it is also bright. It is both."

In the car on the way to the beach we drove past a place selling grave monuments and he muttered sarcastically:"That's a good business to be in, selling grave stones."

His Mom told me that the next night at night time prayers he stuck his tongue out at God.

***

This morning I drove home after morning classes and before afternoon classes and looked at Sid's grave. It was raining lightly.

I went inside and got a permanent marker and went out in the rain kneeling beside the grave - I wrote on the paving stone:

Sidney:

An Amazing Cat.

He was ours

and

we were his.

Love forever.