2000-2015 Abe, the best cat ever!

On May 29th of 2004 I welcomed into my home an adorable little white cat with a splash of brown on his head and what looked like a pair of brown pants on his hind legs. He quickly ran under my futon and as I lay on the floor looking at him I could not believe that I was the proud owner of my first adult pet and all the responsibilities it brings.

I coxed him out with a small piece of chicken breast which he consumed quickly before flipping up hid hind leg to give himself some pleasure licks on his red rocket. Was this normal cat behavior I thought or does he just get really excited by chicken meat? Regardless I was instantly in love with him.

Abe was only partially a cat. He wasn’t very graceful, he rarely meowed, he followed me around like a dog and had a soft spot for the ladies – both cat and human, but always had better luck with the human ones.

He had free rain of the backyard in the brownstone I lived in at the time. I would leave the rear window open and he would jump out and dash across the deck before settling in the back yard to hunt for slugs and lay on his back swiping at the birds flying high overhead. It didn’t matter that he would never catch them – he liked the experience and I liked watching him. I never had to worry about him running away as he always came in within a few hours or when I called him.

One night I heard that sound we make when we have peanut butter stuck to the roof of our mouths. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I hadn’t eaten any peanut butter. Then I spied the iridescent path of a slug beginning on one side of the apartment and leading straight to Abe sitting on the other. Yes. That’s right. Abe was playing with a slug in the same way one would expect a cat to play with a mouse and had slug goo stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Once he fell asleep I spied slug goo on his lip and starting pulling it off. It’s stretched out until it starting pulling Abe’s lip away from his mouth. I pulled really slowly so that I wouldn’t wake him up before I got it off. It kept stretching and stretching until it finally snapped and his lip smacked back against his face waking him up with a start. He shook his head and went right back to sleep.

There was the time he climbed up on the counter and decided to play with a low hanging fly strip. He managed to pull it down perfectly along with a large chef’s knife that was on the counter. I turned just in time to see the knife fall and Abe on the floor with what looked like a massive slash on his back. My heart sank thinking he must of cut himself in half. Then I realized he actually had the fly strip from the tip of his head all the way down his back to the tip of his tail. That shit doesn’t wash off. So I had to give Abe a reverse mohawk.

Abe loved having pressure on his head. He would sleep on my printer hanging over the paper feeder for the scanner so that the top of his head was resting on the cover. It was the cutest sight.

Abe brought a tremendous amount of joy and happiness to me. Even when he was fussy, or scratched stuff up, or peed or pooped or threw-up somewhere that was tough to clean, he was the best.

I had to finally put him down on January 8th. After a tough battle with kidney disease his little body was wearing out and he was no longer eating or enjoying life. Even with his eyes closed and in obvious discomfort on the table at the vet he was my guy. I called his name and said goodbye. He managed to wag his tail one last time in acknowledgement. I embraced him as the vet gave him the injection and I watched the life drain from his eyes.

It was extremely important for me to be the last thing that he saw and that he had a compassionate end to his very loving life.

I’m crying as I type this, but I wouldn’t change how anything went.

Thank you Abe for sharing your life with me. You will always have a place in my heart.