Starbody

Once upon a time, in a state shaped like a mitten I worked as a barista in a little cafe called Javasphere to support myself while going to school. One day on a particularly busy day, a customer came up and said “Um, excuse me, but did you know that there’s a cat in here?” Sure enough, a ginger cat was creeping along the wall. I picked him up and set him outside the door. Five minutes later, “Is that your cat?” Again with the cat in the cafe. You have to admit, he was persistent. After about 4-5 runs in with this cat, I called my best friend Heather to have her come and witness the cafe crasher.  

She drove right over (she’s a sucker for pets) and I’m fairly certain he was sitting out front when she pulled up. He looked a little skinny and had no collar, so we were pretty sure that he was a stray (plus, he was clearly very hungry). Heather (in typical H fashion) points out that there is only one way to find out whether he’s a stray, walks over to her car, opens the door and says “Cat, would you like to come home with us?” And I swear that this cat looked at us both, hopped in the car and sat on the back seat. True story.

He made himself at home right away and seemed really mellow, until H took him to the vet and found out he had a respiratory infection. As soon as he recovered from his kitty cold, he made it clear what he liked/disliked. He was very dog-like, trotting around with plastic milk rings and hiding them in secret spots. When our lives changed and H and I ended our adventures as roommates (that is a whole different story!) he went to live with her in Dearborn.

And so, years passed. I’ve seen him often over the years and he’s always part of our conversations. He moved everywhere with H and Brian from Salem, MA where he acquired his best friend (aptly named Spooky) and back to Michigan where he finally settled in a big comfy house on the lake shore.

A week or so ago, Brian told me that H had woken up and found poor little Spooky in their kitchen which was sad enough. Then, yesterday, H texted me to tell me that she was at the vet with Simon and that things didn’t look very good. I sent her a flurry of texts last night, hoping that maybe things were not as grim as they seemed but knowing that he turned 14 this year. And this morning, they took our friend Simon (who was really suffering) to the vet and said goodbye. I just can’t believe it. He’s been such a fixture of all of our lives and a grounding force at that. He’s sort of like a furry touchstone. He’s witnessed so much of H’s life, that it’s difficult to think of him as not around. What’s crazy? He’s been alive for just about the entire time that H and I have been friends. He knew all the secrets

My favorite memory of Simon (besides the finding story) was in Salem. I have always been allergic to cats, but Simon and I have always managed to work it out. Even though H asked him to stay out of the bedroom, he kept sneaking in along the wall to sit at the foot the bed, say hello and rub his cheeks on me. Goodbye Simon. I’ll miss your plaintive meow, your old man grumpiness and your general kitty friendship throughout the years.