Miles, my friend.
Miles was the first one I met when I came to look at my prospective US residence. Drenched in August sun, his eyes closed in feline pleasure, he welcomed me to the neighborhood with a purr and a stretch. I liked him immediately.
Thirteen years ago, my roommate’s neighbors in Santa Barbara asked him if he’d like a kitten. “Sorry, I’m allergic, and not really a cat person anyway” he answered.
But they knew he’s a big softy and added “We found him in a dumpster, but our pitbull keeps trying to eat him.”
So Miles came to visit, just for a day or two while they looked for something else. But Miles had found his home, and moved with it to Nevada, then here to Oakland. He acquired two canine family members along the way, and welcomed them magnanimously. My roommate’s nieces would come over and immediately ask “Where’s Smiles?”
That name fit him too.
Roommates brought their own animals over the years, the last of which was a dinosaur of a dog who was entirely too interested in Miles, in his inestimable feline opinion. So Miles basically lived on the porch.
He enjoyed his outdoor life. He’d curl up on a sunny rock, stalk the block, and greet me with a squawk when I came up the walk. (Sorry that got a little out of hand.) His little blue food bowl sat just outside the door, with a water dish on the other side. Across was a scratch post which he’d use to graciously provide us the chance to rub his magnificent feline belly, where the fur was a bit nappy. At first I thought him a grungy little dude, but over time I noticed just how elegant he was.
Once it was clear the behemoth pup had moved on to other pastures, Miles made his way back inside. He’d kick the dogs off their bed and take possession right in the middle while they looked on morosely from the hardwood. I’d be at my desk and hear the tinkle of his collar as he’d rouse himself from sleeping on my old backpack in the closet. He’d emerge into the light, squint up with feline affection, stretch, and wander out to find the day. I hadn’t known he was in there.
My favorites were the late nights or early morning when we’d hang out on the porch together, watching the quiet neighborhood on the fringes of its quiet days. When I ate lunch in the front yard with the dogs, he’d cruise up and take a place on the warm stone walkway. Passing the dogs, he’d usually pause to give them a little sniff-kiss on the nose to let them know they still had his permission to abide here.
When I was otherwise alone on Christmas Eve, Miles was here. He nestled in my lap to watch a movie. He kept me company.
I’ve been using the past tense for Miles.
On my last trip I got a message from my roommate. Miles, after years of peaceful coexistence with everything on Earth, had gotten caught on the side of the house by raccoons. I still don’t understand what happened. Why now?
They hurt him too badly, and we had to put him to sleep. There was nothing else to do.
One day to the next, no warning, and he was gone. I hate the thought that his last moments were so full of pain, fear. I loved that cat.
In his text, my normally understated roommate could only say “I wasn’t a cat person. He made me one. I miss him.”
I miss him too.
I *am* a cat person; always have been, always will be. In the past eight months I’ve had to say good-bye to two of my furry buddies, after 15 years. It’s something I’ll never get used to.
My sincere condolences.
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I’m so sorry to hear that. 15 years? Wow. That’s a massive presence in your life, and an absence almost tangible. I hope you can feel that absence, and the love behind it. That’s what I’m trying to do, difficult, and I had less than a single year with Miles.
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Oh wow, I’m so very very sorry to read this.
Loosing a pet is so hard. Take care of yourself 😦
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It is. I can see why people decide during this part that they don’t want to have another pet. But hopefully that passes, and we can hold the fullness of the life in mind, with gratitude and smiling acceptance. Thank you for reading, and for your compassion.
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It passes.
I had to put my dog down a while ago. As hard as it was it was for the best, he was suffering.
It took a while after thatthat for me to get my cat but you will get to a point when you know you are ready for a new fur friend. Whatever shape that takes.
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A beautifully written tribute, Timothy. It must be the week to farewell fury friends; I’m still in mourning and avoiding the house to try to avoid the void of my bear not being there each night when I arrive home 😦
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I’m so sorry to hear that, Kim. It’s a horrible feeling, and so powerless. I hope you can feel the happiness of the life through the pain of the death, but that part too. A heartfelt virtual toast to the beloved pets we’ve lost.
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Lovely post even if there’s a sad ending.
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Thanks, that’s kind of appropriate, since he was a great pet and friend, despite the sad ending. 🙂
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what a great Miles is and was, I so very understand your love and pain, since I have lost my two cats within a few months. I thought I’d never get a cat again, yet after two years this sweet little 3 legged cat at a rescue center won my heart again, Moshu.
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🙂 That’s a great story, and three cheers for three legged rescue cats! That’s great that you could be ready to open your heart to another, I hope you have many happy years together. And condolences for the passing of the others. You get to keep the memories and the love, but I guess we don’t get to keep the cat forever.
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Poor Smiles. He really didn’t deserve that ending.
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🙂 That emoticon should look sadder this time… Thank you. And you’re right, he didn’t. There’s a certain freedom in going quickly…but not like that. I’m glad he had a good long life. We left his food bowl outside, and can’t seem to find the time to get rid of the little tent he’d sleep in when it got cold and he didn’t feel like coming in… Good cat.
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Sweet, loving post to a beloved cat. I’m one of those who found it difficult to own a pet again because the loss of unconditionally loving & such devoted living things seemed insurmountable.
Then I started fostering rescue dogs while I am getting divorced. These dogs have brought me such joy! The “fostering” (like dipping my toes, one-by-one, into the dating pool again) is a step towards being able to open my heart once again to another. Sorry for your loss.
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That sounds like a good way to do it. One shouldn’t rush into pet ownership too soon or too quickly, but there’s a lot of joy to be found there whenever you’re ready… Yup, like dating! (Thank goodness I still have access to Lucy and Sammy, since they’re all the pet ownership and dating I can handle these days!)
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