Nine lives at once

A couple of months ago, my cat Iliad, whom I adored, was killed by a car in front of my house.

Its strange to lose a cat. When my previous cat, Custer, died, it was a different experience – I adopted him with kidney disease, and he was very old, surviving only three years in my care (three happy years, mind you). I still cry sometimes when I think about that cat, and I still miss him, even though he died 2-3 years ago. I cry because I think of how horribly defensive and timid he was when I got him, how he very slowly came to trust me (and even others), how sweet and unintrusive he was, and how I hope with every ounce of my being that he was as happy as possible during his tenure here, despite the gradual onset of kidney failure.

But Ili was different. Ili was young and vibrant, trusting of and affectionate towards all bipedal individuals, and I never had a single doubt that he was happy at all times. My house is pretty much a feline resort: unlimited food, the ability to go outside and return inside at any time, an owner who is almost always at home and willing to play/pet at any time, etc. And Ili took full advantage of all those features and amenities with a remarkable sense of non-presumptuous entitlement. He spent his whole life here either outside hunting and sensing or inside, on his back, getting pet by a man (i.e., me) who took great pains to try different strokes and tempos and remember what seemed particularly pleasurable. He was as happy and well-adjusted a cat as I’ve ever come across, he had no boundaries or defenses (I used to floss his teeth sometimes; I actually think he liked it), and I absolutely, unconditionally adored him.

And then, one day, I picked him up off the side of the road, totally mauled by a car, which caused injuries that I don’t care to describe. In front of 4-5 onlookers, who had stopped their cars and come out to help, I could not speak, and I was crouched over Iliad, all 6’5” 260 pounds of me, sobbing. He was lifeless. I had never seen him lifeless; even when he slept, he seemed active to me. There is something fundamentally wrong with seeing something so sweet and happy die. It is difficult to process; I still don’t quite understand what happened, even though I know perfectly well. Shit – it would be really nice to believe in heaven right now.