A Presumed Obituary

I suppose that you reach a point when what you say is "hope" is really nothing more than denial.
I haven't been able to post anything because I keep hoping that he is just going to be on the front porch in the morning. I think that I knew it wasn't going to end well after the third day, but I'd hoped anyway. And so I'm finally going to let it go...

Mr. Fritz Murray, a beloved member of our family, once thought to be missing in action is now listed as presumed dead. Fritz (and his brother Ernst) were being given away in front of the local mall in the winter of 2001. I had never intended to pick up some cats on that particular trip, but I was afraid that they would be left by the dumpster if I didn't take them. They were barely 7 weeks old. I had to build a ramp for them to get into the litter box in our apartment. Jeff was less than thrilled with the arrival, but as always, went along with it anyway.

The funny thing is that I always had an aversion for long-haired cats. When I got them home I thought that Fritz's hair was going to be a nightmare--
His hair ruined many things, but he was my favorite. He would ask to be held. And didn't take no for an answer--he would literally jump into your arms if you looked him straight in the eye. He liked to sleep with his paws tucked underneath my neck and he never stopped purring when he was happy. He could purr for hours until he literally fell into sound sleep. He liked to sleep in strange places, buried in the clean laundry, on top of the "cushy" chair, in the towel closet. He knew how to jump up and turn on the lights. It was a tense couple of weeks until we discovered that it was him turning them on and off during the day--we discovered it when he kept crying to be fed at 6AM and we wouldn't get out of bed (before kids, obviously) and he got mad and jumped up and turned on the lights. Needless to say, we were astonished and at the same time, proud of his intelligence.

Fritz was a terrible hunter. Caught a lot of mice, never killed a one. I honestly believe that he didn't know how--thought that his food came from the supermarket. He was a lover, not a fighter. He loved Bruce. And Bruce loved him. Bruce sat patiently looking out the front window, waiting for him to return, for two full weeks. He still cries at night for him. His loneliness has been so painful and I hope that he can eventually reconcile the loss. Watching him grieve has been incredibly sad and it makes the denial even worse.

It has been a rough week for pets. It is a relief that I believe in pet heaven...when you grow up on a farm you carve out a special niche for animals at a young age. I'm hopeful that Fritz is up there with Lucy and Rusty...and a myriad of other beloved friends. Lachlan asked if Jesus would take care of Fritz--I told her that he wouldn't have a choice. Cats are like that...

So with heavy hearts and a hope in something greater than ourselves we bid our dear friend, goodbye. I hope that the angels have a Furminator...they're going to need one.