I have a serious number of cats, and ALL of them are Somebody. Benny was a very unique Somebody because he was our special needs cat: he was stone cold deaf.
To be a deaf kitty in the rural wilds means that we KNEW he would only be with us for a little while.
And that is the hardest, most precious gift he gave us...we loved him 110% even in the face of the knowing he would have an early demise.
We didn't know he couldn't hear at first. Claude had been working outside and heard the plaintive mews of a kitten in distress. He followed the sound and found Benny under a milk crate at the neighbors, and promptly bundled up this tiny white kitten and brought him home.
It took about a week to realize that what seemed odd about his behavior was that he didn't respond to any sounds... the final test was to clap our hands loudly next to his ears while he was sleeping- he never flinched.
So we had already integrated him in with the other 5 indoor- outdoor kitties and couldn't see a way to re- educate him into a total indoor cat...and we discussed this at length. The final decision was to let him have as full a cat-life as possible, knowing, KNOWING that something would get him eventually.
And Benny had an amazing life.
Benny loved to play "fetch". We toss a foil ball, he'd race to catch it, and then prance back with it in his mouth, the proudest little being you ever saw.
He'd play with the new puppy and held his own easily. He would come with me to visit the feral kittens in the garden and loll about, playing with them gently. Always gentle.
Because he couldn't hear, he never heard any of the negative feedback from his cohorts ( our aging entitled other cats) who would hiss and spit at this bunny-boy of a kitten who just wanted to play. So he would just keep trying, completely affable, never discouraged...until all of the others just became his friend by default- he wouldn't take no for an answer.
Because he couldn't hear, he would sit on your feet in the kitchen, to keep track of you... he was also cross-eyed and couldn't see too well either- but he coped in his ways.
We were hyper vigilant with the cars, always checking 2-3 times that Benny wasn't under the car-he would never get the warning growl of the engine.
Sometimes he would get lost and he had a very distinctive, off-key meow ( a deaf being's meow) and he would wait patiently for us to track him down...which was better than when he was just lost, because you sure as heck couldn't call for him.
So this is nothing but a statement of deep mourning. We lost Benny yesterday- the moment that you know is coming- the moment that you had been thinking would be O.K. because you agreed to love him with all your heart...that moment is now and I still love him and I wouldn't do it differently but now he's not here.
Loving in the face of impermanence seems to be what this whole human world is about. My beautiful Benny offered this great teaching.
Never, never forget to love all the thing that are still with you...
Thank you for listening...