Thank You, Captain Kirk

Captain Kirk is my cat. He's 20 years old now. I've had him his entire life, since he was a squiggly little nugget I would jiggle around in the palm of my hand. I'm just about 40, so Kirk has been with me for half my life. Odd thought.

Odder still is that of all the things that have come and gone in my life -- cities, houses, girlfriends, cars, roommates, friends, jobs, hairstyles, attitudes, clothing, hobbies, you name it -- he's been the one single constant throughout it all. Unlike other aspects of and people in my life, he's never left, never changed, and never judged what I do, or the way I've done it.

Well, he's been a strong and dignified cat throughout the years; more like a dog in a cat suit, really, and smart as a whip. 20 years for an outdoor cat is pretty remarkable. He's been through his share of raccoons, feral cat fights, surgeries, chunks taken from his ears, an amputated toe, new houses, unwanted house guests, and being unceremoniously knocked off the bed at random points during my sexual encounters ... the gamut of a cat life well lived.

He's finally reaching his end, his body giving up on him and starting to succumb to age and gravity. He can't walk anymore, though he struggles like a drunken sailor to get to a bowl of tuna I've put down for him as a celebratory last meal. He takes a couple wobbly steps and falls over, rests a bit, then doggedly gets up and tries again. When he goes down, he flops full-out on his side like a splayed rag doll, and lets his head fall to the ground. I carry him where he needs to go, and hold him up and steady him to drink from his water glass. I have an appointment to have him put to sleep tomorrow, though I hope he goes on his own terms before then. Either way, it's time.

Am I sad? Yes and no. I'm sad to see my friend deteriorate. I'm sad to see him go. I'll miss him curling up on my lap, pawing my nose in the morning, and hopping into the shower when I'm done to lick up the fresh water. He's become an integral part of my life ... I can't remember what it's like to not have him around all the time. That's going to be a difficult adjustment.

At the same time, I'm profoundly grateful for the time I've had with him. He's been a gift, and the universe was kind enough to give him to me while I needed him. While my life has been great up until now, it's also been tumultuous and dramatically shape-shifting, resulting in some pretty significant upheavals. Now I'm in a different place in my life and my path, and I owe a lot of that to Kirk, and the constancy he's provided me in the face of change. I'm excited to see what the universe has in store for me next.

Thank you, Kirky Boy.