Saturday, October 17, 2015

Twelve Years Ago...

Patrick "Pat" Muldoon the Third
The neighbor kids called him Patch. The Missus Herself decided, when we adopted him and his brother, that he would be called Pat. She felt that that moniker was much more fitting.

The Naviguesser liked to call him "Mr Slinkman" or "Uncle Slinky" for reasons best known only to him. (I think it was the way Pat would slink about the house in his cat way.)

The Nuke gave him the nickname Patrick Muldoon the Third. No, he wasn't the third of his name, it was just a name which tickled her fancy. Pat seemed to like it too.

We also called him "Pooh" or "Pooh Bear," no doubt because his brother's name was Tiger (pronounced "tigger.") Winnie the Pooh and Tigger were no doubt the inspiration for that nickname.

He and his brother joined the family when they were six weeks old. Little things who were constantly exploring and getting into trouble. Never a bother, always entertaining.

Tiger didn't make it back to the States with us. He passed away at the young age of five, a victim of bad kidneys. His spirit (and his ashes) came home with us in 1999.

Pat survived his ride in the belly of our aircraft, cooped up in his kennel for the seven hour trip. When we collected him at Bradley, his fur and his dignity were ruffled but intact.

Pat passed away suddenly, twelve years ago today. He was ten.

It was a shock.

He was a good boy, a good friend and a very playful and affectionate cat.

He was loved so much.

He is missed so much.

It still hurts...

12 comments:

  1. Haven't had cats as pets since I left home many years ago. I grew up with 2 of them. One, a Siamese, the other her mixed-breed daughter. They both lived to be over 20 years old and both passed away while I was overseas. The Siamese adopted me as her human early on. She slept in my bed and washed my face. I was told that after I left for Basic, she'd go into my bedroom and cry each night. Won't keep a cat nowadays because of the road I live on. Too many cars going much too fast. Too many flattened carcasses lying on the pavement. (I do miss them. They were fun.)

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    1. https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151091564633521&set=a.10151006602683521.427023.542333520&type=3&theater

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    2. Cats do play favorites. Pat was pretty much everybody's cat, though he always slept with us.

      Tiger, was always The Naviguesser's buddy. When my son went off to college, Tiger would sit outside the bedroom door "singing." Waiting for his human to let him in.

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    3. Kismet was a pretty lady. Her daughter Teddy Bear looks like a classic tabby, much like my Grandmother's cat.

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  2. You never forget the ones you love.

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  3. Never been much of a cat person but have enjoyed the ones we had in the family and their influence on our kids. Hard to be depressed when a furball is in your lap demanding attention. We had barn cats that expected a pan of fresh milk twice a day. For fun, I would shoot milk at them from a teat and watch them catch it. Hey, when you are a ranch kid you are easily amused.

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    1. The farm cats I've known loved that "fresh from the cow" milk.

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  4. Our pets are family and their loss always hurts. The only thing we can be assured of is if we have a
    pet we're going to outlive them and have the pain of their loss but I still wouldn't live without a pet in
    my life. Having a pet improves the quality of my life and makes me a better person.

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  5. The story of the romance of Mr. & Mrs. Mom and Dad includes multiple episodes of barn cats and teat manipulation. I've never had the courage to pursue those stories to a natural conclusion. Some mysteries are best left mysterious.

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    1. Discretion is often the better part of valor!

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Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)