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Sunday, August 24, 2014

Dear Tribble, 1998-2014, rest in peace.

Another sweet cat has crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and a gentle, loving soul has left us. Yes, I do firmly believe animals have souls. I have looked into too many pairs of feline eyes to doubt that.

Tribble was a quiet cat, a real snuggler with a nice loud purr. Back when he shared my bed instead of my husband, he liked best to have his head on my pillow so he could purr into my face. I had to hold his paws to keep him from making bread on my neck because that hurt.

He never met a stranger. He'd come greet anyone who came into my home, and if you'd pet him or give him a treat, he was your friend. He asked no more - but sometimes he demanded. My husband got himself trained! He started giving treats, and at last every time he'd go into the kitchen, Tribble would follow and stare at him with the unblinking intensity of a hunter. If treats did not appear, he's meow in a loud, harsh, tomcat voice - the only time he meowed at all.

I heard him hiss once, in his entire life. Hester smacked him for no reason one time when he was just walking by her, and he gave her a look that said, "What's your problem, bitch?" and hissed at her. And kept walking. He was one laid back cat.

Tribble had me trained too, but then I'm easy that way. If, when he was in my lap, I spent too long knitting, he'd grab my wrist to make me pet him. I never minded. Sometimes he'd grab with both paws. He was a love to cuddle.

Of the litter of three tiny kittens I adopted in El Paso in 1998, one is left - Kira. Chakotay died of cancer at age 9, and now Tribble has passed of simple old age. His loving kitty body just wore out.

I hope they have nice laps wherever he is, and I hope I get all my cats back when I cross that bridge. I couldn't find the source of this quote, but my friend Krys told me this: Those of us who share our hearts and lives with creatures whose lifespans are so much shorter than ours have great courage.

I can't imagine living without cats.

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