In Memory of Lynx

  Sixteen years? Longer? I’m honestly not sure how long Lynx had on this earth. In the end, it matters not. What does matter is the quality of the life he had… and I’d like to think it was a good one. A little more interesting at times than he’d perhaps have wished… and maybe a little duller during other occasions… but overall good I’d wager, if the affection he continued to express to the very end is any indication.

 

  Do cats reflect on their lives toward the end? Are they even capable? Or is it only humans that sit for hours at a time ponderously going over the moments that compose the narrative fabric of our lives? If he were to reflect, what would he consider the high points? Finding a family as loving as it was loud and ramshackle after being beaten near to death?  A combination of people and animals that from afar held more in common with a farm than a family. Or perhaps after a long drive across the country, it was a high to discover a new home, where silence was more common than the raucousness he’d come to know.

 

  What would the lows be? As a kitten, coming close to death at the hands of… Whomever it was he escaped from before finding his way to us. Perhaps it was the week or two he spent wandering a neighborhood he’d only recently moved to, before finally finding his way back into the house. There’s obviously no way to know, as cats are notoriously bad spellers. But it’s interesting to ponder.

 

  It’s said that cats know when the end of their lives approaches… and in Lynx’s Case, that was obviously true. He had a cancerous growth in his throat that made it progressively more difficult to eat… up until he was down to a liquid diet only. And though he had to have been progressively hungrier, he never complained, or made his pain obvious. I can’t know whether or not that was for him… or for us… but to the very last night, he behaved as if nothing was wrong… weakness aside.

 

  I don’t remember any more the thrust I was originally writing this for… nor am I sure what the point of this ‘is’. All I know is that July 9th, 2014, Lynx found the end of his life… and I lost a member of my family. It hurts, and it doesn’t make any sense, as we all will eventually find the end of our lives… but I loved him unconditionally, and he seemed to love the same… and maybe that’s what I was originally going to comment on… the rarity of that kind of relationship between people… but regardless, ‘that’s’ also what was lost that day.

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