2023-08-21 (Week 2281): An Unforgettable Mouse
It would have been 32 years ago today that my childhood cat Mouse was born, and it leads me to reflect on the time in life that we shared, as well as the time that has passed in the 12 ½ years since his passing.
I got him as an 11-year-old, and he lived until I was 30, which was a pretty formidable period. I got him when he was eight weeks old, and I was with him until he was 18 years and seven months old.
Having to put him to sleep was the most emotionally devastating thing that has still happened to me, and I’m not sure I’m back on track after the fact. In reflection, the time since has been quite tumultuous, with a few ups and downs, but that could also coincide with the aging process.
His lifespan coincided with some of the best times of my life. Becoming more involved with online communities, building the initial versions of this website, recording many of my earlier albums, and making lifetime friends, he was always there with me (at least when I was home). He was a snuggly cat and was attached to me when he was inside.
He was an indoor/outdoor cat for the first 14 years of his life, and he stopped being one when he got attacked by a raccoon and ended up with an abscess on his head that required shaving half of his head and inserting a tube subdermally to drain the abscess. Perhaps it was the circle of life because he pulled a raccoon off a fence when he was two.
He was a beggar for food and would sit by the dining table and tap at my leg for bites. I still remember the last time he did that, about a week before his passing, and I couldn’t give him anything because the tongue cancer had taken hold, and he couldn’t eat much of anything besides a bit of wet food.
In hindsight, what he represented to me was a link to childhood, and even though said childhood was still tumultuous at times, he was always there when things were rough and was a good snuggle buddy when I needed the extra support. He could be considered a living security blanket.
I’ve looked to that support in subsequent times with subsequent cats, and while some have been more supportive than others (Barclay was a rock before I had to leave him with my parents and can be pretty snuggly on occasion when I visit), it was never the same.
He was a great cat, and I couldn’t have asked for a better childhood companion.
Thank you for everything. I love you, and I miss you, buddy.
Until next week!