In memory of two friends. (Please dont post any sympathies. Just memories.) A few months ago, Gary R Boodhoo and I lost our cat Tibault, and shortly after, our rabbit Ellis, to unrelated illnesses. I didnt want to share anything about it, there wasnt anything I could say that seemed liked anything but a joke compared the tragedy that we felt. I didnt want to spread sad feelings around our circle of friends and family. But their deaths have filled every part of my life and hindered enjoyment of whats left, so, now I understand why people write about those theyve lost. We must outweigh the memory of the moment of tragedy by strengthening the thousands of memories we have of their lives. Im extremely lucky to say that Ive never lost anyone who was as much a a part of my close family as Tibault was. (I still feel the loss of my first pet, Ivory, but he ran away after a move and we never knew what happened to him, so in a lot of ways it was easier.) Tibault was a big, black, shedding, face-licking anvil of a cat. He was there the first time I came over to Garys house, and the first time our hands touched in that linger-y romantic movie way, it was on his furry back. In a way, he brought us together and Ill owe him that forever. He had an intense fascination with plumbing, and would run into the bathroom when he heard the bathtub faucet turn on. He would swat at the water and then look up at us, confused and strangely urgent, when we turned it off. He was urgent about food (being a cat) and also about love. He needed affection more than any other cat Ive ever known, and gave as good as he got. If given the chance, he would sit on top of you and lick you right on the lips until they hurt. (His tongue was especially scratchy.) When Gary was away, he would wait in front of the door, expectantly. Even for the months that Gary was in Singapore, he would be there, watching the door, every day, with his sister Wallis, their tails twitching. He was more social than most cats. Anyone who was at our home in San Francisco will remember him pushing his way into their lap, (or into their face while you slept, as Jeffrey Harris, Richard Franke, Malcolm J. Brenner, JoRae Mahony and Esther Palmer will likely remember) or into any circle in the middle of conversation at a party. The way he *expected* to be wanted, made himself a part of anything, and made friends with anyone, inspired me, and I know it sounds funny because he was a cat, and he was so short, but I looked up to him for that. One of his good friends was Ellis. Cats and rabbits arent always friends (Wallis is terrified of Linda) but Tibaults love for licking faces meshed just right with Elliss appreciation for something rabbits consider a compliment, or a show of respect for their dominant position in the rabbit hierarchy, which happens to be getting licked on the face. It was accidental, but it worked, and when Tibs would saunter by the rabbit lair to see what the smaller mammals were up to, Ellis politely lowered his head to accept the gesture of respect. Ellis came from SaveABunny in Mill Valley, one of Marcy Schaafs rescues, and I never knew how old he was or what his life was like in the beginning. All I know is he wasnt wanted. But I wanted him. He was my first pet after a decade of not being able to have one, and something about him reminded me of my fist pet ever, Ivory. They both had Siamese-style markings (Ivory being an actual Siamese cat) and a sort of laid-back-ness to them. Ellis joined my life the day I hit the road for Albuquerque in 2008. Simin Radmanesh shared the drive, in a used van, and we realized the air conditioner was broken as soon as we got to the Central Valley. Since I only had a crate for Ellis, I stuffed him into a canvas bag to bring him into the garage office while the repairs were done. I gave him a middle name, Jose, after the mechanic who fixed our air conditioner. When I moved in to my new apartment in Albuquerque, he took awhile to settle in, peed on my pillow at least twice (intentionally! he had the whole apartment) but finally settled in with excellent litter box manners and a fondness for lounging on the old sofa that Mike Penn gave me, and watching the TV that Tim McGrath gave me (or maybe Im getting those mixed up). When I came home from work, I could see him looking out the window sometimes as I walked up from the parking lot, and when I opened the door and walked in, he would run in circles around my legs. I imagine the most exciting day of his life was when I brought Linda home. She a terrified teenage rabbit fresh from an Albuquerque school yard, but Ellis was thrilled. After a few days of controlled dating (thats chasing each other around the apartment between time outs), they became fast friends, and remained each others favorite things anywhere ever for six years. He loved Linda more than anything, except maybe banana chips, which he would happily shove her out of the way for. Tibs and Ellis were two of my best friends. They were loved, are still loved, and they had long, happy lives, filled with treats and friends and cuddling and exploring and laying around all day doing nothing, which every animal has a right to do. Ill never forget them. Goodbye Ellis and Tibault. Youre adventuring together now, into the unknown. If you would like to share any memories of either of them, this is the place. They were so much more than Ive written here.
Posted on: Sat, 24 May 2014 19:00:27 +0000
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