Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Sad, sad day. I wondered why the cat Gray Boy was not waiting on the deck for his normal routine, Friskies Mixed Grill on top of dry cat food, that he would leave for the blue jays to fight over. Then taking out the garbage, I saw two cats in the road, one down and one right next to it crying. It was Irene's big cat Franco crying , and I knew it was Gray Boy down. Irene was coming from the house, attracted by the cry of her cat, and I just kept saying poor Gray Boy, poor Gray Boy. Irene bent down to look at him, "he's still breathing, but he took a terrible blow on his head - not going to make it." I got Timmy who put him in a basket and brought him to our yard. Irene had watched over him until then, keeping traffic clear. An hour later he was still breathing, so Tony took him to the vet and that was it. I couldn't look at him, but Sabra said he didn't look like he was suffering, so that's something.

Gray Boy came to us in July 2007. We were coming back from Cape Cod, Ria driving, when Sabra who had arrived home earlier, said, "Ma your cat died today." That was Ellie, old, old cat so it was no surprise. What was a surprise, was later that day, a gray cat appeared in the yard, a gray cat wearing a pink flea collar. And that is how we got Gray Boy. Oh, we tried to find his owner, Sabra took a cute picture of him and we posted them throughout town. The phone rang, and a woman said she saw the poster and thought it was Smokey. She came to the house, with two kids, a girl and a boy, and the kids both yelled Smokey, It's Smokey, and I smiled. But the mother looking closely, said No, it's not Smokey, Smokey held his head differently. So close. Then a man called and said his cat was missing, looked like the picture, but did this cat have only three legs? Sadly, I had to admit there were four. No one else called, and he became our "outdoor cat". He slept under the living room window, and since he was a Russian Blue Cat with heavy, heavy fur, he didn't seem to mind the winter. Recently, in the heat he had been tearing his fur out, pieces all over the deck.

Maria loved Gray Boy. "He was a prince in another life, Ma." Sabra loved him too, would pick ticks off of him, which he patiently let her do. Timmy would chase him if he came in the house, but he would prefer Timmy instead of me for his nightly belly rubs.

Poor Gray Boy....rest in peace. We are going to bury him with Sabra's cats, Horchow, Toad and Aunt Eddy. Rest in peace.