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Another cat? Perhaps. For love there is also a season; its seeds must be resown. But a family cat is not replaceable like a wornout coat or a set of tires. Each new kitten becomes its own cat, and none is repeated. I am four cats old, measuring out my life in friends that have succeeded but not replaced one another.” ― Irving Townsend.

When Zorro came here in 2018 he was a mess. He bit, clawed, hissed and scratched everyone in sight. His fur was matted. He was not a happy cat.

I took him to a groomer who said, “I’ve only met one cat I could not groom.”

I left him with her.

As I walked in my door the phone rang. The groomer said, “I’ve met the second one.”

I brought him home.

The groomer suggested I have him given a lion cut.

That meant sedate him and shave him. I knew that was not an answer.

I surfed the web and got information. Then I groomed him.

My hand puffed up from his bites. I had to get medication. I thought when he first came in that it would take over a year for him to come around.

The third time he bit me I said to him softly, “You know, it is okay.”

The reset switch went off inside him. In an instant he went from wanting to kill to wanting to hug me.

I have never seen anything like it.

He had found a home.

From that moment on he was wonderful.

When I lay down Zorro planted himself next to me. His eyes said it all.

When I ran films in the screening room he took a chair across me where he could keep his eyes on my.

I have never experienced such a wonderful transformation. I have never had anyone shower so much affection on me.

I am sure the immortals if they exist envy us for we with our short lives experience things more deeply than they with their eternal lives.

It became clear today that Zorro was ready to go.

I brought him up to my room, held him, then lay him on my bed.

If this sounds maudlin let it.

I have three cats remaining

All are special. Irving. Askhim. Boss.

Zorro was the one who came in the most hurt.

Had he not come here his life would have been a different story. It would not have been a better story.

It is no accident that many of the people who have come to live with me have been like Zorro.

Zorro came in after my cat Berlin died.

They were cut from the same cloth.

If you love cats as so many of us do you know they are more than we at first thought they were.

I have learned so much from first my dogs (never wanted) and cats (never wanted cats).

In fact I was dead set against both until they walked into my life.

In Toronto when I walked my dogs Reefer and Charlie I did in the field across the street.

As I walked I looked for four leaf clovers so that my dogs would sniff the earth and do dog stuff instead of chasing balls and sticks.

At Christmas I put the clovers in books I had read. The books were unwrapped. Many thought me too cheap to buy wrapping paper.

The books were the wrapping paper. A few unwrapped the gift. They were delighted when they did.

Here is were it gets magical.

In 1978 I was in Hay-on-Wye in Wales, a town famous for used books.

As I took a walk down a dirt road a little dog not much bigger than a cat joined me.

Suddenly he stopped.

Figuring he had business I moved on.

I looked back. He had not moved. I walked on. Looked back. He had not moved.

Third time I returned.

I bent down, tweaked him under his right ear and asked, “What’s up?”

At that his pink tongue flashed out drawing my eye to his nose in front which I saw not a four but an eight leaf clover.

I realized at once that all of the universe is connected.

We are, many of us, part of one something wonderful.

Zorro has left me.

His little body lies on my bed.

Out of the corner of my eye sometimes I see the dogs, cats and people who have shared my life and share it still.

Though our time on this level is short and ofttimes painful this life is not all there is.

There is more, much more.

I am, however, going to miss Zorro and that is good.

If you have a cat or a dog, cats or dogs or both give them a hug from me.

Had Berlin not died Zorro would not have found a home here.

To everything in life there is a purpose.

With all my love, Reg Hartt (09 18 2021)

“We who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle;
easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only
certain immortality, never fully
understanding the necessary plan.”
Irving Townsend

How to Grieve the Loss of a Cat

Zorro. I wish I had a picture of how angry he was when he came here three wonderful years ago.

 

 

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