On the passing of my cat, Pasha

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We called him our evil overlord, but our cat, Pasha, has passed on. He was on a roll lately; he killed a mouse a day for the past three days, bringing his trophy to the same spot outside the window for me to see. Except today, after he jumped up to be let in, his heart threw a clot into his legs, and he couldn’t get up again. We brought him to the vet, but there was really no option that could lead to a good outcome. We had to let him go while he was still glorious.

We found him at the MSPCA, a marvelous little manticore with a sign on the cage that said he played too rough. The sign did not mention that someone had cut his whiskers short. Who exactly was playing rough?

When he was little, he would fly up your back and perch on your shoulders. While I still kept goldfish, he was fascinated by them. As I changed the water and cleaned the tank, he would sit on my shoulders and try to reach the fish. Sometimes he would lounge on top of the fishtank, hoping.

He learned to hunt outside, and he did his job well.  He chased the squirrels, caught a few birds, and killed many mice, too many to boast about.  Possibly because of his early abuse, he was short-tempered, and it took years before he would let you pet anything but his head. And only a fool would try to sink a hand into his fluffy belly. But as he mellowed, he grew more affectionate, especially in the evenings. Somehow he trained me so that before I was allowed to fall asleep, I had to lie on my back so he could sit on my chest. It was so soothing to feel his breathing against my breathing.

Now our sweet kitty, Mucha (Moo-sha), has the house to herself. He mostly  bossed her around, but they have also exchanged a few licks on the head. I’m glad the cats could be nice to each other. I’m glad I have lots of pictures of them to look at. I’m glad he was such a magnificent creature. But mostly, I’m sad. I want my cat back.


3 thoughts on “On the passing of my cat, Pasha

  1. I don’t think I ever met him, but he sounds like a magnificent creature, and I know all too well what it’s like to lose a cat too soon. (Granted, it’s always “too soon”…) I’m very sorry for both of you, and I hope he’s some place where he can roll in endless fields of catnip and chase all the mice he wants to . *hug*

  2. I am so, so sorry. He was a beautiful cat, and the world is a poorer place without him (tho’ the mice may feel differently). Michael told me once to grieve as long as I had to, then to give the good cat home that I had to the next cat who needed it. The same to to the two of you, fellow servants of Bast, and may she purr on you all. ers

  3. Thank you. He set a great example for how to enjoy catnip and mice. There will be room for another cat, but not just yet. Purrs to you both.

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