This is the "something" that I mentioned on the 2023 post on Friday.
This includes the last pictures of Morrigan. I really like that she was purring as the last thing that she did.
From the Welcome Wagon of Gifts given to new Church of All Worlds Internest members:
A small black cat that comes up to you and stares you in the face. She begins to purr as she looks at you, and when you reach down to pet her she falls softly against your feet, purring up a storm. If you wish to pick her up, she will curl up in your lap, settling down for a long luxurious nap. The kitty comes from Cindy.
Mistress Morrigan, Miss Machiavelli, Little Miss, Queen of All. She was the best and the brightest. She taught the other cats how to use the cat door, trained them in litter box etiquette when necessary, ruled them with an iron paw, understood that tags were the price of going out, and loved totally. If I was ever upset, she was there. I was unpacking delicates from our move and found a piece of crystal from my grandmother's estate was broken. I was staring at it when she appeared, purring up a storm in my face. I dressed as her one Halloween.
I always whispered to her not to tell the others she was my favorite. She always had to be between the two of us to absorb the love energy, and she *had* to lick mama flesh whenever she could.
How could it have happened? One day she was fine, the next day she was listless and pale. We had blood drawn, and the doctor gave us antibiotics and vitamins to help her, but the bleeding continued, so I took her to the emergency hospital. There, they tried to find out what was wrong, but she would NOT submit to being shaved, probed, poked and penetrated. At that point, with an abdomen full of blood, she was weak enough that she went into cardiac arrest. Twice. After the second heroic CPR effort she was oxygen starved enough that she could no longer see and barely moved. I held her for an hour or so, petting her and telling her I loved her. She knew she was always my favorite.
At that point we decided to have her die in our arms instead pass within the next few hours, possibly alone. It was rough. We are still processing.
We held her funeral Sunday night in the backyard. She is buried under the apple tree that fertilizes our grandmother apple tree, in the glade it forms with other bushes and trees in the corner. She should enjoy being in the control position. We buried her with her favorite foods and bits of us. We watered the earth and set the sod upon it to grow again. May her spirit help the trees thrive.
Goodbye Morrigan. We love you.
Stories from Torin:
There was once when I came home from work. There was a cute kitten out front, all ears, with mittens and a splash of white on the front. I set out some milk for her since she seemed very young. I continued inside after I gave her the milk. When I went outside later, she had finished the milk and walked up to me announcing that I was acceptable and that she was ready to go inside now. It seems that we had been adopted. We'd been thinking about looking for a friend for Kitaya but hadn't gotten around to it yet. It looks like we had it.
When I first moved in with Cindy, her apartment couldn't have pets. So, I left the kitties with my parents down in Montclair, about an hour drive away. They were not pleased. The kitties destroyed the door leading into the main part of the house and the carpet in the area needed to be replaced and the concrete underneath it, bleached.
So, the kitties weren't in the best of moods when we picked them up. We brought Kitaya home first and she was not shitting in the litter box. Any place else seemed fine. We locked her in the bathroom with the litter box. Kitaya, manifesting her nature, shit immediately -beside- the litter box. We brought Morrigan home two days after we had Kitaya. She was coming home from the vet after being spayed.
Well, we had Morrigan in the room imprisoned with Kitaya and we had found more shit beside the litter box instead of in it. So, we talked to Kitaya and told her that she wasn't getting out of that room until she started using the litter box again. At this point, we noticed that Morrigan was over in the litter box, straining, trying to get something out. She was saying, essentially, "See, I'm a good girl. I don't want to stay in here." We told Morrigan that *both* of them had to use the litter box or neither of them got out. Since that time, we've never found shit outside the litter box.
When we first had an apartment in the U District, we had a cat door fit into the window. It had just been installed recently and we showed them that it worked back and forth and pushed Morrigan through to show that it worked. She caught on instantly. She would then wait until the cats were watching her and then she would go outside. She showed Droolpuss from the other direction as well.
We also needed to put new collars on the cats. It was very bad flea season in Seattle. We had Escort collars, Advantage, Program, and Fleabusters. So, I locked the cat door by sliding the two locking things so that neither in nor out worked. I had taken the collar off of Morrigan to replace it but she ran over to the cat door and was pushing against the lock to open it, the opposite way that I had pushed it. She would've made it too, except that she didn't have the leverage.
Morrigan noticed that we had this new black box in the house and after I fiddled with it, we seemed preoccupied. It was the new Frame Relay router and we were spending more time on the 'Net, now that we didn't have to dial-in. Morrigan was being ignored. This wasn't acceptable.
Since we read our mail locally off the mail spool, we hadn't noticed that the line was down but I get this call from Sprint saying that our circuit was down. I thought this rather odd but I thought I'd check. Somehow, the power switch for the router was toggled. This was odd since it had a shield around the switch and couldn't be accidently toggled. It was also tucked in the back corner beyond my feet where it wouldn't get tripped over. Then I recalled that Morrigan had been walking around my feet earlier, asking for attention and that I had ignored her. I then remembered her walking towards the back corner and then off again with an affronted air. The conclusion was inescapable.
Cindy used to keep gerbils a while back. But as they died of old age, we didn't get more of them, especially since we now had cats. Morrigan remembered this and would go out into the field near our apartment and bring back live small furry things for us. While it was nice of her to do this, we were not appreciative of her gifts. Thankfully, Droolpuss was a good hunter and he quickly found them and killed them.
This culminated one night when Cindy and I were woken up by a squeaking noise in the front room. Maybe if we didn't like the small mice she brought us, we'd like a larger rat. It was a third of her size! She proudly had it in her teeth; how she pulled it through the cat door, I have no idea. She dropped it at my feet. Thankfully, I can think quickly under pressure and I picked the rat up by its tail. It tried to bite me at first but I snapped the tail and while it still struggled, it wasn't trying to bite me anymore. I took it by the tail and tossed it into the courtyard. I saw five or six cats perk up their heads when I did this. I doubt the rat survived very long.
We then had a long talk with Morrigan. While we had told her not to bring in mice before, there was an amused tone in our voice. It wasn't funny anymore and we told her this. She didn't bring any mice (or rats) in after that.
The Animal Control vans used to be rather prevalent in our area although, they've dropped off recently. This meant that for the kitties to go out, they *must* have a Seattle Animal Control tag on. Droolpuss put up with it and just wore the collar. Morrigan didn't like it much. She simply removed the collar somewhere. We went out and purchased a harness for her that was harder to remove. But remove it, she did. We found it in the back yard.
Now, if Morrigan wanted to go outside, Cindy held up the harness. Morrigan walked away. This happened about ten times over two hours. Finally Morrigan relented and let the harness be put on her. She was then let outside. Then, every time that the harness came loose, she came to one of us to fix it again.
Last Pictures of Morrigan
Right before we had Morrigan euthanized, we took a picture of each of us
holding her. You can't tell from the pictures but she was purring in
our arms while we took these pictures:
Click on the thumbnails to see a larger (640x480) version.