Weekend Onesie: A Cat Named Wonk

Weekend Onesie:

A Cat Named Wonk

He would have been 22 years-old in October. He'd been having issues for some time, now: arthritis, digestive issues. Always a bit of a crabby puss, everything seemed to get a bit worse once he lost his life partner, Cedric, nine months ago.

We should have seen it coming. But then, denial can work as a sort of kindness. 

Oh, he was such a cranky old man... but a real love. 

The Boyfriend is devastated. 

He found Wonk at the humane society. As he walked into the building, there, in the lobby, was a big silver cage with a tiny black kitten in it and a big sign on top proclaiming... "Warning. Knocks Things Over." 

He'd been 'returned.'

The Boyfriend looked at the tiny beast inside, walked up to the nearest counter and said... "I'll take that one."

He then went and found Cedric, who was two years old at the time and was suffering from a respiratory infection. They both went home with him that same day and the two cats grew up together under The Boyfriend's watchful, playful eye. 

The little kitten was christened 'Wonk' because that is the sound he made when he would hit the door at the end of the hallway of The Boyfriend's old apartment. It was a long hall with a polished wooden floor. The crazed kitten would race down the hallway and then, unable to stop, would smack into the door. He did it over and over again, making the sound that would become his name. 

For the Labor Day weekend we had planned a visit to my sister's house in Madison. The last time we'd been there was for the New Year's holiday. It had been a mixed-feeling affair, because we had to put Cedric, who was 23 at the time, down the day before we left. 

The day before we were to leave to go to my sister's, The Boyfriend called. Wonk was sick. Acting strange. Hiding. Not able to keep food down. The vet said they would see him right away. Both of us thought the timing was... telling, but we said nothing.

It's strange, as I was driving to the vets with The Boyfriend and Wonk, all I could think about was getting to the prairie for a bit of sun. In these situations, my brain never accepts the eventuality of what is to come. Again... denial is sometimes a form of kindness. 

It wasn't until we were in the parking lot and the vet tech was on the phone talking about putting Wonk down that it hit me... I would have to say good-bye to yet another dear friend. 

Wonk was uncharacteristically quiet and cooperative. Normally, if you so much as looked at him, he would complain, such a sour puss was he. We sat for a long time in the examination room with him, just gently petting him, the tears flowing freely.

The people you belong to

The places that you've been

They don't tell the whole story

Now where should I begin?

Back at the beginning

When the world and you were young

Life held so much promise

But now your life is done

These little creatures... they take up so much space in our lives and our homes. When they leave us, the void left in their wake feels immense, far too large a space for such a tiny being to have fully occupied. 

I miss my Wonker man. As do all his other kitty companions and, most of all... The Boyfriend. 

We all feel quite powerless in the presence of another's grief. We want to help, but...? What truly can we do? 

Be there. 

For them. 

To try and make the hole left in their life seem a bit smaller. 

Good-bye, Wonk.

You were truly loved.

--- ---

Wishing you all great peace.

Everything must come to an end.

And this, too... shall pass.

- uptonking from Wonderland Burlesque

You Have Been Loved - George Michael