We buried Earl this afternoon.

It was warm and sunny, and he wanted to go out, so I let him. (Spring's coming, after all, and he'd been wanting to go out more this past couple of weeks.) We decided to go down to the river for an hour's walk, and he didn't want to come in . . . so I let him stay out. I thought he'd get up on the cat tree in the sun like he usually does did.

 

He was out, and so was Jane, and Ocie, and Sam. All just hanging out in the yard, enjoying the afternoon. No different from any other nice afternoon.

 

When we came back, everyone was acting strange, even the ones who'd been inside. And we couldn't find Earl. He didn't come when we called, and he wasn't in any of his usual spots.

I found him down the hill in the woods, where the trilliums and bloodroot grow.

The neighbors' dogs (the dogs that run loose, even though we have a leash law in the county. Two big dogs, one a collie mix and the other a big brown short-hair about the same size—more than a match for one terrified cat.) came into the yard (again) and caught him in the open. He ran under the side porch, but they dragged him out, chased him down the hill and killed him.

He trusted me to take care of him. I failed. And now he's dead.

 

He was such a sweetheart—he never hurt a thing, he loved to be held like a baby while he slept, he'd lick my face when he thought I needed cheering up or reminding that he loved me, and he'd curl up under the covers with me and sleep when I'd let him.

So much joy in that one small body. And so much love—someone said once that a beloved pet is love in a fur coat, and that was Earl. He wasn't very brave—Sam was forever running him under the bed, and he ran and hid whenever someone strange came in the house, and he was afraid of small children—but he was so very loving. He was one of the bright spots in our lives here.

And now it's all gone.

It hurts that he was killed when I wasn't here, that he died expecting me to open the door and save him, and I didn't. And it hurts that all that love is gone. It's ironic, really—when I got him, a month old, he'd been rescued from a dog, and he always had a groove in his skull behind one ear from the dog's teeth; and it was a dog that killed him. So, I suppose it could be pointed out that he had ten years—ten good year, from what I can tell—that he might not have had. True, but it's cold comfort. (And it isn't just me; John says he feels almost as if he's lost a child.)

I took these Monday afternoon out in the side yard:

 

Go in peace, little brother, to whatever comes next. We'll miss you for a long time.

Comments

[Myra]

My heart goes out to you. It is never easy losing a trusted friend. It just angers me that people don't take responsibility for their pets. I have a dog and cats so I don't say this lightly. I have started worrying about my outside cat because I have spotted a couple of loose dogs wandering lately. I keep my dog fenced - why can't others? Please don't blame yourself. I will keep you, John, and Earl's furfamily in my thoughts.

[towanda]

Oh, Anita, I'm so very, very sorry. As said above, please don't blame yourselves. My thoughts are with you in your grief. xo, towanda

[Jo-Anne]

He's at peace now. My heart breaks for you too - it is NOT your fault. Don't take that on. You and John gave me a wonderful home.
You should report the dogs. Even if nothing is done at this point, there will then be a paper trail. The owners need to be held accountable.

[Jo-Anne]

Ooops - meant to write that you gave HIM a wonderful home. That's what I get for writing before my cup of coffee. Take care of yourselves.

[Sue Kurowski]

Oh, I'm so sorry. What a horrible ache in your hearts. I'm sitting here with big tears in my eyes for you. It's awful to lose a pet - it IS like losing a child. Please be gentle with yourselves.

[KAI]

I can barely see right now from the tears, Anita. You know Mr. Schmoodge was my favorite of your kitty-people, and I am just heartbroken for you & John. I'm so sorry I can't even express it. But it's NOT - I repeat - NOT your fault. I'm FURIOUS with those horrid people who let their dogs run loose. FURIOUS. It takes a lot to make me angry, but if I were there, I'd - I don't know WHAT I'd say to them. I guess that they have caused the death of the sweetest, cutest kitty, and so much grief to those who love him. PLEASE, follow Jo-Anne's advice & REPORT those neighbors. She's right - they DO need to be held accountable. It won't bring Earl back, but it may save another kitty. I love you AND John. And my heart is with both of you.

[Trudy Neill of Windemere Farm]

We are so sorry, thinking of you both.
Love,
Trudy and Dave

[Stacie]

I am so sorry for your loss. It's awful to loss a beloved furbaby. Please don't take on the guilt, it was not your fault.
Please contact your local animal control and report the dogs, with neighbor's address, for being loose etc. Those owners need to step up and be responsible for their pets.

Hugs to you and your husband.

[Cindy R]

I'm so so sorry. What a horrifying story. You and Earl were so lucky to have each other to love for all the good years. You're in my heart and prayers.

[Anna]

My heart aches and breaks hearing this news. Such a terrible thing - my since condolences to you all.

[gina]

Oh, how sad. Such a gorgeous guy! I am so sorry for your loss. Many hugs to you and your family...

[Etayne]

Reast in peace, Earl. You've brought much joy.