god Is Spirit

It is over and it is done. The Vet just left my house with the remains of what used to be my cat. My pal, confidant, companion, and my love. Her name was god.

Felix In Hollywood is a joyous place and please know that, attendant grieving aside, I am indeed joyful to have spent the last almost 16 years of my life with such an extraordinary being. And I am joyful that her suffering in the last weeks is over.

OUR STORY

On April 1, 1994 I moved to an apartment in the Fairfax district, largely because the building allowed pets. After some research, I found that the Petco on 2nd and LaBrea had cat rescue adoption on Saturdays, so on the 9th I went. I had had male cats as pets before and that's what I was there to find. A male cat. I also knew I wanted an adult for two reasons. One, everybody wants kittens and nobody wants to take the adults, and two, I wanted a 'turnkey operation', I really didn't want to go through the manic kitten phase.

The very first one I spotted looked great. Black and white, sort of like tuxedo markings done by an unsteady hand. I walked up to the cage and within seconds, the woman running the adoptions said, "Oh she's a lovely cat." She? I moved on. Most of the rest were kittens and I found myself back in front of the first cage. You can call me nuts if you want, but I swear this cat and I were able to communicate with one another from the gate. 'Look around all you want, but you've got to get me out of here, I don't feel well.' she was telling me.

I turned to the woman, "What's wrong with her, she doesn't feel good?" I asked. She sniffed with indignant outrage, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with her, all our cats are in excellent health!" Since there was no point in trying to explain that the cat had told me differently, I just said, "I'll take her." Mrs. Adoption Agent squealed, "Oh, you'll be very happy, she's a very good kitty. Her name is Melba!" I glanced over at the cat, who shot me a look saying, 'Don't you Dare!' My look replied, 'No worries pal'. After finding out that she was roughly 14 months old and was found in an auto body shop (I do like a gal with a questionable past) I signed a bunch of paperwork, paid some money and packed her in the car to head home. She screamed her head off for the whole ride.

Once home, she jumped out of the carrier and hid behind the stove, where she remained for the next three days. In the mornings I would see that she had eaten, drank her water and used the litter box. Finally, on the third night, I was watching tv on my bed when I saw her in the hallway at my bedroom door. After about 20 minutes she jumped up onto the bed and settled herself on my lap, purring furiously. The next day, I took her to the Vet and found out she did, indeed, have a wicked case of worms. A few pills later, she was fine and our life together began in earnest. One of the first things she made clear to me was, 'Look, just tell me the rules around here. I'll do whatever you want if you don't take me back to that cage.' "Fine," I said, "chairs, couches and beds are all okay, tabletops and counter tops are out of the question, at all times." And you know what, if she ever has gotten onto a table or counter, she's had the good grace to do it when I'm not home. We quickly discerned what I expected out of her and what she expected out of me. For over three months I wasn't able to come up with a suitable replacement for 'Melba' and she wasn't talkin'. At last, one night a friend was over and, in conversation I said, "You know, I think I'm gonna learn a lot of spiritual lessons from this cat. She's really simple, she's all about love, and as long as her needs are taken care of, she's reasonable flexible about her 'wants'." My friend said, "Well, she's just a regular little God, isn't she?" I looked at the cat, who had been laying with her back to us, ignoring us, and said, "God?" She whipped her head around to me, did her little purr/meow combo thing and started to walk over. And thus, she was named.

We've really had a blast together, she had a very wicked, very subtle sense of humor.
Like cigarette smoke that drifts to the one person in the room who's a non-smoker, she would always make a beeline for the person who wasn't particularly a cat fancier, and insinuate herself on their laps, daring them to reject her.  They would typically just suffer in silence, delighting her to know end.

Rob scoffs at god

She loved the good life and all forms of pampering.

  She was intoxicated by fine footwear

  

She loved hide and seek, especially the counting part while I hid.

  I honestly think she used to peek

Last week she came up to me and said, through eyes that could no longer see, 'Please get me out of here'   and so today was the appointment.  Thankfully, they came to the house so she could just lay on the couch and drift away.

All this week I was telling her, "The angels are coming soon to get you, so you can fly with them".  And typically, even in her misery, she would perk up when ever I said that.