Lynx

He was a loveable little kitten with a grey/brown tiger-striped fur. He’d been at the animal shelter for 3 months in the same cage with his brother and sister. They’d all managed to escape the usual fate of upper respiratory disease that takes many cats in the shelter. He was strong from the get-go. We named him Lynx because he had little tufts of fur sticking out from the tops of his ears. We took him home with us to be a brother to the other kitten, Leo, we had just rescued from there a month earlier. They were best friends right away. When we got home we let him out of the cage and Leo ran to him immediately. They sniffed each other and, after mutual approval, started to play. It was meant to be. They grew together, both very loving and affectionate cats. It was the perfect situation I’ve always wanted as a cat owner; two cats who loved each other, played together, cleaned each other’s ears and took care of one another, and kept each other company when their people were away. Lynx loved to go outside! We would let him out for a few hours a day, except during winter when we’d open the door, he’d sniff the air and realize that it was way too cold to have fun and would turn around and trot back into the house away from the frozen tundra. He showed us his hopefulness and optimism when he would ask to go out 5 minutes later thinking that the weather would be completely different than the time before. But the rest of the year, he would enjoy the outdoors. He enjoyed life on earth for 3 turns of the seasons. During spring, summer and fall, he would spend as much time as he was allowed outdoors, making sure to come in well before nightfall. He enjoyed all the things cats do; chasing birds and mice, gentle breezes blowing across his fur, sitting contentedly on the porch, basking in the sun or hiding under his favorite pine tree across the street for shade when it got to be too warm. How could I have kept this sense of freedom from him when he loved it so? If he would have stayed indoors all the time, he wouldn’t have been as happy, but may have lived longer. Is it better to have lived a short happy and free life than to exist in monotonous mediocrity for longer? Would it have been selfish of me to keep him in just because I wanted him around forever? Would he have left us anyway because it was just his time to go? We will never know. But I do know this. Quality of life is so much more important than quantity.

He was one of the most loving and affectionate cats I’ve ever encountered in the world! And he was a very good listener. He would actually stop what he was doing when told “no”. I’ve never known a cat to do that (besides his brother Leo). He was a survivor; from the early months in the pound to getting bailed out from 2 “arrests” by animal control, to being shot with a bee bee gun... (obviously there was a neighbor that wasn’t quite as appreciative of him ;-( He definitely used up all of his nine-lives. But he was happy. Today, he was hit by a car and reached his inevitable expiration. He has transcended to the next level of existence. Heaven sure is lucky.

Goodbye my little Lynx. Mom, your brother Leo and I will carry on without you. You will be terribly, terribly missed…but always, always loved.