Blotch

Back in 1987, after less than a month of marriage, I got my wife a cat. It was our first Christmas; we were newlyweds. The landlord had a “No Pets” policy. But, doggonit, she wanted a cat and I wanted to make her happy. I sweet-talked the landlord, paid him an extra $75, and started hinting to customers that I was in the market for a cat. I was selling air time at a radio station in those days. A lady who managed a water bed store said that her mother, who lived on a farm, had a cat who had just given birth to two kittens … and one of them was so cute! Grey with little white boots. The other one, she said, was kinda ugly.

So it was that I found myself clandestinely heading to a farm in Lenoir, North Carolina, in December of 1987. My client met me there. She was very apologetic. Her mother, doggonit, had given away the grey cat. BUT. But, she said, “I looked at the other cat and she’s not nearly as ugly as I’d thought.” “Oh great,” I thought. I peered into the big cardboard box. That was my first meeting. She was a sweet kitty. Ultra-soft fur. Not much to look at. Great personality.

We called her “Blotch.”

I’d been saving money for a few months to buy my bride a string of pearls. I believe they set me back over $600. I should have saved them for another occasion. Because when she received the surprise cat gift, all other gifts paled in comparison. She was thrilled. We were newlyweds. No kids. Blotch became part of the family.

Blotch was a people person. Unlike standoffish felines, Blotch always wanted to be where the people were. She slept on your head, sat on your lap, would jump up and lay across your shoulders. She was always wherever you were. She liked tuna, loved bacon; was a good kitty.

In the summer of 1989 we headed off to Nashotah House, Wisconsin. The seminary had a “No Pets” and “no sweet talking” policy. So it was that Blotch went to live with my wife’s folks for three years. We got to see her a couple times a year when we came home and, in the meantime, they would take pictures and send them to us. My wife missed her cat.

Upon graduation and moving back to North Carolina, we were reunited. We lived near my wife’s work and, most days, Blotch would be perched on my shoulder peering out the front door window, watching for her return. Cats don’t smile and women don’t purr, so they both did their own thing.

We’d been trying to conceive a child for a number of years and, lacking success, we thought we might never have children. The pressure was on: Blotch was it. Yet God saw fit to allow otherwise. We have a picture of Blotch in the bassinet … jealously daring anyone to take her place. When Mary Catherine arrived in 1994, it took a while before Blotch warmed up to her. But, when she finally figured out that the new arrival was here to stay, they became buds.

We also have a pic of Blotch in the bassinet “awaiting” the arrival of Basil in 1998 and maybe even Helen in 2002. She eventually let them all join the family. She was a good kitty.

Several years ago we noticed that Blotch was deaf. Later, she become a water-holic. She would grab a drink whenever an opportunity was present: bowl, sink, shower, your glass, Christmas tree stand, whatever. The vet said that her old kidneys were probably giving out on her. So it was that, little by little, we began trying to prepare ourselves for the inevitable day.

That was yesterday.

Over the past few months her health kept sliding … to the point she couldn’t properly feed or clean herself. She drooled. But she would still sleep on your head, climb on your shoulders, warm your lap — and drink all waters in sight. She was a good kitty.

I always dreaded the day. (That would be yesterday.) I dreaded the day when I might have to deal with her death. Knowing that my wife would take it hard, I knew I was not the patient, compassionate man she would need to help her. Heck. Who’m I fooling? I dreaded the day for me. But, we took her to the Vet. It was way hard. That was my last meeting. She was a sweet kitty. Ultra-soft fur. Not much to look at. Great personality.

Blotch made my wife (me & our kids) happy for almost two decades. Glory to God! Other than the three years of seminary, that would leave 14 years, Blotch has always met us at the door upon our return. The inevitable that made my heart ache yesterday will soon be replaced by a sinking moment of sadness upon entering an empty house.

That would be today.

(I bet the grey cat with white boots died long ago.)