If never I met you...

As strange as this is going to sound, in many ways our little fat cat, Suki, had a hand (or should I say paw) in creating what I call Team Tinsley. My family. But before we get there, picture if you will a scrawny little kitten sitting on the 2nd floor landing of an apartment buidling in Norman, Oklahoma.

You see, best as I can remember, Suki came into my life in the Summer of 1988. Mom and Dad having left my home town of Sand Springs, I was living for the first time, full time in Norman, Oklahoma where I was attending the University. My girlfriend at the time had a pretty, fluffy, white and orange cat named Ashli. Ashli (who later became my cat) liked to hang out at the window that faced the 2nd floor stoop of this apartment. Suki, who I'd guess to be 4 or 5 months old at the time, liked to come and visit Ashli at the window. She'd walk around and do what I've always called talk. Meow. That cat meowed more than any cat I've ever met. I'd talk to her as I came and went from the apartment. She'd talk back, and follow me down the stairs if I was leaving, or come down them to greet me upon my return. She seemed to like me. Being an animal lover, I liked her. I considered us friends, but felt since she had a collar, she belonged to someone in the complex. A few weeks later, noticing that she was becoming sickly (she would meow, but nothing would come out, just an open mouth, like someone had hit the mute button) and that her collar was dangerously tight, I came to the conclusion that she had been abandoned by some piece of shit college student who got a kitten in the spring and then when summer came, well they split and left her. Then again, they might have got tired of her incessant talking and dumped her. Regardless, she was on her own, and sick. I had to do something for this little cat that had attached herself to me.

So, in an act that shows just how soft hearted I am when it comes to animals, I paid (I'm cheap and don't like to part with money) for Suki to go to the vet to get well, and boarded her for an entire week, since I was going to visit my folks in El Paso. Upon my return I had every intention of giving Suki away to a good home. Only problem with that, no one wanted her. Admittedly, Suki was an ugly duckling kitten. Plus she talked all the time. Two traits most people don't want in their cat I guess. People would come over to the apartment and see Suki, then see Ashli, and well they wanted Ashli, not Suki. More than one person said, "I don't want that cat (pointing at Suki who would be talking to them), but I'll take that pretty fluffy one (pointed to Ashli who could care less about this visitor.) This went on for about a week or so, until I couldn't take it any longer and decided Suki (I got the name from Michelle Pfeiffer's character in the Witches of Eastwick) was going to be my cat. Thinking back on it, I believe Suki knew from the get go that I was her master. I just took me awhile to realize that she was going to be my cat. Maybe no one else wanted her, but, I did.

Suki got that. At some instinctual level, she realized no one else wanted her, and that I took her in, took care of her. Then again, maybe I just fed her, and she liked that (Suki always liked to eat.) Regardless, our relationship went beyond the typical animal/owner bond. I'm not sure if Suki thought I was her mother, or dad, hell maybe boyfriend. All I know is that she loved me real hard. She was crazy for me, and I was crazy for Suk.

In fact, so much so that Suki served as a litmus test for women in my life. If Suki didn't like them, well, I figured something was wrong. I can still see Suki, in my minds eye, approaching the sofa where I sat with a date. She'd of course, talk the whole way to the sofa, hop up, and wedge herself between me and the date. Then she'd lay on her side, and push her legs toward said date, trying to literally push them away from me. She'd then cock her head, look at me and start talking. I'm sure in cat she was telling me all the reasons I needed to get away from this particular women. Why they were no good for me.

Then one fine day, something magical happened. I met the woman who would one day become my Lovely Bride, and when she eventually had the pleasure of coming to my pad, Suki didn't do her go to move, and try to keep her away from me. In fact, Suki liked Carter from the get go which didn't go unnoticed by me. I took the paw up as a symbol that this lady had something special. That this might be the one. You know what. She was. Ob-La-De, Ob-La-Da, Life goes on. Carter and I got married. We had Boy(s).

Suki was there for all of it. In fact, I was quite concerned when Carter was pregnant with Ethan that Suki was going to freak out when we had the baby. I imagined her in the crib trying to smother the infant. Or probably more realistic, going on a pee and poop rampage in the house.

Suki did none of that. From the get go, she was accepting of the Boy(s). Since the early days, Ethan has been all over her. Cat wrestling is what I called it. Wy too, loved to lay all over her, liking the way her fur felt against his face. Suki graciously put up with all of this, never once hurting one of the Boy(s) even though at times they hurt her by accident.

For the past month I've had what can only be described as a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. I'm uptight and superstitious. I know that. I kept trying to tell myself to shake it off, that it was in my head. Let go. Easier said than done for me. That is what makes Monday, June 27th all the more strange. I woke up around 5am so I could watch the last Alias on a DVD. To be honest, I didn't noticed, which is unusual, that Suki wasn't at the door talking to get in from our backyard. Normally she will stand at the door and talk for over an hour, until everyone is up, and then we let her in (otherwise she would wake up the entire house.) I'm normally quite annoyed by her early morning talking which usually starts as soon as I turn on the kitchen light. But, all was quiet on this morning. As I got up to get a refill on my coffee and to put the DVD in the mail back to Netflix, I was struck with that feeling of dread. I was trying to shake it off as I opened our front door and saw, what was once Suki on our front lawn. No more than 7 steps from my front door. It was horrible. Gruesome. Helter Skelter bad. So much so that we called both the police and animal services because we feared it might be some sicko freak who did it to our cat. It was that bad. They both said it looked like a Coyote kill. I won't go into the details just that I'm thankful that Ethan didn't see it. It was hard enough telling him that Suki died, but to tell him what actually happened, and to see the results for himself, well, how would a 3 1/2 year old Boy understand that. I'm nearly 38, and I'm having trouble undestanding it.

The fact that it went down on what I thought was my safe little neighborhood, on my front yard, has shaken me. We often play in the front yard. Run around. The thought that Suki was brutally killed on that yard, drug and torn apart where we've all run around as a family is eating me up in ways I didn't think were possible.

I've had that damn cat for 17 years. She has been with me all the way back to my college days. She was with me (talking the entire trip I might add) when I made the big move to Dallas. She was with me when I broke up with a long time girlfriend. She was with me when I met Carter. When I got married. When we had the Boy(s). Countless apartments, and a few homes. Suki was with me. When I was sick or sad. When I was happy. Suki was with me. She is so interwoven into the fabric of my life, that I'm having an extremely hard time with the reality that I will never hear her talk again. That I will never see her sweet little face again. That I didn't have the chance to say good-bye, and to pet her one last time. That not only did she die, but she died in a cruel and savage manner. I only hope that it happened quick. I'll never know of course, and that is one of the things that wakes me up laste at night, her last moments. Laying in bed, in the dark, my heart aches for my cat. So much so that I have to get up and move around. I end up walking around the house in the dark. Checking in on the Boy(s) in their golden slumber. I look outside to our front yard, and, remember the horror of what I saw on Monday morning.

Things often come full circle...In Suki's later years, she spent a lot of her time out in our backyard. She had a spot, more of a wallow really, near the garage, where she would hang out, lay her head on a railroad tie. She was almost always in this spot, when I came home from work. She would greet me, talking the entire time, and follow me to the door, just like so long ago in Norman. When I came home on Tuesday, some part of me expected to see her in her usual spot. To be able to reach down and half way pick her up by her tail (which sounds mean, but she liked it when I did it to her.) To say, Hello Suk, how are you doing. To give her a few pats. For her to talk back. Her spot was still there. But no Suki. Instead of saying Hello and picking her up, I cried. I still cry for my cat. I lover her. I hurt. Bad.

I've heard it said, that when you die and go to heaven all the dogs and cats you've ever had in your life come running to meet you. Considering my shaky history with organized religion I'm not sure where I stand on that..but thinking about Suki, how I feel about her, and how her life was ended, sweet mother of all that is good, I pray that if I'm worthy of heaven, she does greet me me at the stairs, talking the entire way to the door or gate. She deserved a better death. She was a good cat. She was my cat. I miss her.

Until I BLOG again...Suki had her own theme song. Because of her talking, I made this song up, and would sing it to her, and she would sing it with me. So, one last time with meaning...

There once was a cat named Suki
And everyone thought she was kooky...but me, BUT ME!
People would come from miles...to see Suki smile
And dance...and Sing!!!! (at which point Suki would start talking on cue...)

F (bomb) me. I need a hug.