Meat Loaf

                                              MEAT LOAF


My favorite cat was Meat Loaf; a short-haired silver-gray male with white feet and stomach, whose coat would change from silver to light gray to dark gray. He had lovely green eyes like mine.  He'd make human friends, even cat haters, by laying three or four feet away, purring and rolling on his back. He caught the heart of my ex-brother - in - law, who I never believed would ever touch a cat!  He would 'plop' beside you and lay his head on your lap, he just loved being close to people. His favorite game was 'fetch', when I brought home a 'mouse' covered with rabbit fur, many games of ’fetch the mouse’ followed. 

He was born to us and he started sleeping on the bed when he was two weeks old.  As soon as his eyes opened he knew where he wanted to be and this tiny kitten made his way up onto the bed and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him! 

We had to rescue his mother from a tree that hung over a 40 foot drop.  When my ex-husband climbed the small tree he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and placed her on his shoulder so she could put her paws around his neck.  We named her Tiny, and Tiny loved the bath tub and if I wanted a bath I’d have to close the bathroom door or she would beat me into the tub.  Meat was her first born.

As a kitten he slept at the foot of the bed on my side. He wouldn't eat anything but milk and dry food for the first four months and every time I put wet food in front of him he would give me this strange look like I wanted him to be a cannibal. When he was about four months old, I made a meat loaf with carrots in it. He went wild and fought off our other cats from having any of it. So I foolishly named him Meat Loaf when he turned out to be a vegetarian!

We took him everywhere with us, even up in the woods camping in Oregon. He loved it even though he never hunted. One night a field mouse got into the camper van just as we turned out the light to sleep, and ran up onto the bed. He tried to catch it, but didn't have any luck and my ex-husband finally had to get it and put it outside.

If I was sick, he would always lie beside me and purr and follow me around, watching me closely, if I got up. By this time he was sleeping on my arm at night. I could whisper his name when I went to bed and he would be there within a minute. He was my constant bed partner. He was more loving than a person at most times.

That was how we spent the almost twelve years we were given. I still feel him around me in the mornings when I am alone. He died in my arms from a heart attack; he gave this startled cry and jumped off the bed and started twitching.  I held him until his body finally died, but I could tell from his eyes that he was gone long before his body stopped moving. I will always love and miss him until the day I die. I loved him that much and he loved me.  He was my friend and constant companion which is a rare find in a pet.

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