An ode to my best friend
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Cats are amazing creatures. Don't get me wrong, I love dogs too but cats in their own right are also special. Where the human trains a dog what to do a cat trains a human how to listen to them. Only when you learn how to listen to your cat can you have a meaningful relationship with them. Certainly some cats are better with humans than others and mine was one of them. To me he was the best.
Back in July 2000 I was thinking about getting a second cat. My first one, a Persian named Puff, whom I had adopted when she was about four years old and had been living with me for about two years, was at an age where she'd still be accepting of another cat living with us. I loved Puff but I wanted my first kitten so I went to the local animal shelter just to look and see what they had with no intentions of bringing one home. Well, that changed when I saw Marmalade for the first time.
He was loud. Really loud and when I first laid eyes on him he was crawling up the side of his small cage meowing all the time. I took him out and he immediately began to explore the surrounding area still meowing without pause. Not an unhappy meowing but one of a need to communicate with humans. I couldn't resist his charm and brought him home. He was happy. I was too.
I should say something else drew me to him. He was born on the same day, month and year as my first born child. I thought there might've been the hand of fate involved and also thought it'd be nice to see if they bonded which they did. Everytime Emma was in her crib so was Marmalade. Maybe for warmth or maybe because he understood that she was also new to this world. They loved each other which made me happy. Unfortunately Puff was not so enamored with our new friend and would occasionally hiss at him when he tried to play with her but in time they became friends. She would groom him partly out of compassion and partly to assert her dominance.
For many years Marmalade and I were best friends. He was there when I needed someone to talk to and he was more than happy to listen. Life during those years was lonely. I was a stay-at-home dad now with three children in tow and simply had very few friends. Partly because of the demands of being a stay-at-home dad and partly because of the dynamics of the world in which we live. While trendy now back then a stay-at-home dad was an anomaly.
The years rolled on and Marmalade and I saw those years together. I could call his name and he'd come running. He loved to play, sometimes a bit rough which was fine since after all cats are hunters, and I loved to play with him and had the scars to prove it. He'd sleep next to or on top of me for much of the night without fail. Life was good until it wasn't but thankfully Marmalade was there when I needed him the most.
In the autumn of 2012 I was diagnosed with stage four cancer and was told that without treatment I'd be dead in two months. With extensive surgery, radiation and chemotherapy, the "holy trinity" of cancer treatment, I had a 50/50 chance of making it six months. Spoiler alert: I lasted longer.
Marmalade rarely left my side. My treatment left me basically unable to walk or talk. I was in immeasurable pain and on almost immeasurable amounts of pain medication. For almost a year my meals were delivered to me via a feeding tube to which I was fully responsible for its administration. Quite frankly life sucked. While I was married at the time my wife who worked was of no assistance when she was away and little assistance when at home. Truth be told we were both unhappy in our marriage and my cancer didn't help. She was a deeply religious person and saw me as an infidel, a non-believer who was a danger to her fragile beliefs. Not a good mix. But Marmalade was always there to listen, snuggle and be my friend. We all need that special friend by are side during our darkest moments in life and he was that friend.
During the worst of times we remember those that were there with us and who were not. Marmalade while always a good friend really earned his stripes during those very hard days and his compassion will never be forgotten. A year had passed since my surgery, chemotherapy and radiation and my health started to improve. Sadly my marriage did not. In fact it got much worse.
While I saw my cancer as a random mutation of unknown origins my ex spouse saw it differently; as a punishment for my lack of faith in the god she followed with undying devotion. When I survived and wasn't grateful to her god for my new lease on life she became angry. I didn't hold her to fault for her misguided beliefs but those that created them and taught her the same. Some flavors of religion are more hurtful than others and sadly hers was one of the worst. While a perpetrator of this hateful rhetoric she was also a victim of it and that's why I'll always have compassion for her. There's an old Scottish expression that applies here: "Forgive but don't forget the bastards names."
As my health improved I started to rejoin the world but was in for another surprise. While this is not the place to go into detail I found that much of my life savings entrusted to my ex spouse were missing. There were reasons and to put it bluntly she engaged in "gaslighting" or the act of telling someone what they believe and what the facts show are not true. While our bank statement said one thing my ex spouse was telling me another. I had survived the nightmare of stage four cancer just to be thrown into another. But thankfully my friend Marmalade was once again there to comfort me just like he always did.
It all came to a head one day when I demanded a full accounting of the missing funds and a full explanation of her unrelated criminal activities. Instead I was handed legal paperwork. She wanted to dissolve our long marriage and at that point I did too. Trauma number three and as always my friend showed me comfort.
I'm no stranger to hard times or hard work, an ethos instilled in me by my father. On my 17th birthday I enlisted in the United States Coast Guard Reserves. Thanks to an eagle scout equivalency I was able to start two pay grades above my peers. That summer I completed the USCG basic training program that was based on the one used by the United States Marine Corps and graduated at a higher rank than any of the others in my company. After returning and completing my senior year of high school I was off to advanced training and graduated at the age of 18 ½ as a non-commissioned officer, one of the youngest in US history. I spent the next few years performing search-and-rescue missions in the North Atlantic Ocean. It's said in the United States Coast Guard there are days of boredom punctuated with seconds of terror. The rescues were ecstasy and when we failed it was agony. I saw more sadness and anguish before my 20th birthday than most people see in their entire lives, to which I'm a better person for it. After completing my service I followed my passion of photojournalism. While I had dreams of writing great stories I soon found myself on the evening “blood beat.” Outside of a few evening government meetings my work entailed chronicling assaults, car accidents, drug overdoses and other general forms of death and destruction. As bad as that was it paled in comparison to the thought of the pain I’d soon face leaving my children and to a lesser degree my best friend.
Thankfully I was represented by a highly competent attorney and my soon to be ex spouse was not. He was able to pull a few strings and get us a quick date in front of a judge to dissolve our 24 year union. Also thanks to my competent attorney and much to my ex spouse's objections and chagrin I was awarded a generous alimony with health insurance. The proceedings took less than a half hour and with that one life ended and another started. I guess I was free.
My life of the previous 24 years had ended and the scythe of fate and the greed of an other had cut my mooring line loose; I was left adrift. Faced with the unknown I decided to try to rekindle my career as a photojournalist. Having a deep understanding of my ex spouse's pathology, her scant respect for following the law and the fact that if I were to fall to my demise she would receive a seven figure payday I felt it was in my best interest to leave the city I'd called home for many years. While we like to think religious folks are moral I would like to paraphrase Voltaire in which he said "A person that believes absurdities can commit atrocities."
With the heaviest of heart I said goodbye to my children and my best friend and moved 8,000 miles away. If you're going to start anew it's best not to take half measures.
After a couple of years away I returned to the city I called home for many years a bit wiser from my journeys throughout Vietnam, Thailand, Laos and China. In the winter of 2017 I was able to see my best friend for one last time. I'd like to say he was excited to see me but he wasn't and acted like I'd never left his side. While this might make some sad I was happy that he hadn't suffered from missing me. Animals in many ways aren't burdened with the same frailties as humans. He purred and rubbed up against my side. We were together once again and we were happy.
One night in January 2019 my son, whom I have always spoken with on a daily basis, informed me that Marmalade had died from kidney failure at age 18. I cried and mourned the death of my best friend but was relieved that he had not suffered. A kitten that was in a shelter and a lonely human had become best friends and we were both better for the experience. Through good times and bad we helped each other. I still miss him to this day and always will.
Cats are amazing creatures. All we as humans have to do is listen to them. I listened to Marmalade and he taught me much including the joys brought about from the bond between a person and a cat.
