I Knew He Knew

Can I be honest with you? This week’s been hard. As in, really, really hard. And as much as I’ve debated writing this, I needed to. For me. If for no other reason than to just remember. Not to remember my car getting towed, or my computer nearly breaking in half, but to remember the one thing that actually mattered in the scheme of such things. Earlier this week, my sweet Mony of 14 years breathed his last smelly, kitty-cat breath…

People say cats are selfish. That they live for no other reason than to be pet. Constantly. But they didn’t know Mony. Mony’s real name was Oliver, but his name at the animal shelter was Mike. Or Ike. We’re not sure which because he was kept in the same cage as his sister, whom the shelter obviously thought was a boy. Not sure how you could miss that. Or.. A lack of… that. But Mike and Ike became Oliver and Emily. Emily was my sister’s. And Oliver was mine. I was eight. And in love.

Fastforward 14 years and mom calls to tell me Mony, who’d always been at least double the size of any other cat, is losing weight rapidly and – let’s just be straight up – defecating all over the house. Staining carpets. Multiple times per day. He was sick and we all knew it. Emily had died painfully just a couple years prior in my dad’s arms. So we knew it would be best for Mony to go a little more peacefully. I asked for time to digest it all. And to remember..

Remember throwing a two-month old Mony from my bed seven times a night because he just wouldn’t stop playfully biting my toes. And the endless fascination that chewing on plastic bags gave him. To remember how he’d greet me when I’d come home from school. And how it was clear that he knew he was mine. I needed time to remember the feeling of nuzzling my head into his furry stomach. And although Dylan’s furry stomach is great, it just isn’t the same.

The night before Mony’s appointment, I called home and had mom put him on the phone. As silly as it sounds, I asked her to please plug her ears. This was a private conversation. And yes, it was a conversation. “Meow.” “Meow, my sweet boy.” “Meeeow.” “You’ve been the best friend a cat could be.” “Meow, meow.” I sobbed into the phone, and told him to remember I love him.

And when he meowed back, I knew he knew.