Thursday, November 19, 2009

R.I.P. "Monkey"

monkey



There's a very long winded story as to how in a little over a year, I went from having no pets to being the owner of 3 cats and a dog, but such has been the case for nearly a decade. It feels strange now to say that I only have two cats and a dog. My poor little "Monkey" has gone to the catnip farm in the sky.

It's funny how I found "Monks". I used to have to walk my dog really late at night when few people were on the street because she was particularly skittish. One night, we were almost home from a midnight walk when I spotted what appeared to be a skunk popping out from under the library. It in fact turned out to be a feral or abandoned kitten, cute in a silly "my head is too big for my undernourished body" kind of way. My first thought was, "Why me?". At the time I had one dog and one cat and I did NOT want to be the single girl with a small animal farm. But so it was. I took Pascha home, grabbed a towel and some wet and dry cat food, went back to the library and spent an hour coaxing this kitten out from her hiding space and brought her home. She was mine and I was hers.

When I took her to the vet, they estimated she was 2 months old but the proper weight of a 1 month old cat. I believe this early starvation had a huge influence on her being the piggy of my pets, always there as soon as I put food in the bowl, mewing incessantly anytime I was near the kitchen. I named her Kensington, for the library where I found her, but over the years she got many nicknames, Monkey, Monks, Kenny, and as the neighbors once called her, Hitler. (Which later lead me to CTLLH, though Monkey was rejected for not being Hitler enough) She was a sweet cat, but very mellow, occasionally jumping on my lap to knead, but mostly doing her own thing. I'd come home at night and she'd be spooning with Kiwi at times, but mostly respected the boundaries laid out by Pascha and Boo Radley, the more dominant of my animals and generally avoided my bedroom.

I'll skip the details of her death, just that she was noticeably sick for less than a week and went quickly due to liver failure. Naturally this breaks my heart, but in her own way, Monkey said goodbye. On the day before she passed, I was taking a nap and she slept with me. On my pillow. her paws on top of my hands, her body curled around my head. For the first time ever, she was on my bed and Pascha didn't try to kick her off. Monkey had a good life and my life is better for having known her.

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