My cat, “The Goo” died yesterday. Just as she was helping me complete the finishing touches on book.
Here is what The Goo had to say about this sad day.
My name wasn’t a perfect name, but I was a perfect cat.
My name wasn’t just Goo, it was ‘The Goo.’I wasn’t born ‘The Goo.’ Kenzie named me Kiri after she went with Linda to the Del Mar cat show. (I heard that Rod gave those two explicit instructions to ‘only look’ and not to get any more cats as there were already quite a few kitties in the house.)
I was a super-chill, California-cool, laid-back cat. I never complained, never meowed (unless Rod stepped on my tail that one time) and only presented myself for pets when I knew the time was right.
I was the perfect cat – at all times. And I liked to nap – all the time.
OK, back to the Kiri name. I liked it and during the first few years I responded to that, especially from Kenzie. But I also found out she named a lot of her pets Kiri in those days, so it wasn’t so unique.
Then I got some sort of gum/teeth infection. It caused a massive amount of sticky saliva (filled with bacteria as I later found out) that I drooled around all day. That drool, that is how I got the name ‘The Goo.’
I understand that Goo really isn’t very glamorous as far as cat names go, but I have seen names like Pebbles, Inspector Gadget, Jeeblees, Missy Moews Alot or worse, Mr. Bigglesworth, so my name was short, sweet and was easy to respond to. By inserting the word ‘The’ in front of Goo it made my name a bit more regal. Two fast, hard syllables and that is my name, ‘The Goo.’
Back to my teeth: my humans weren’t smart enough at first as I had bad teeth and gums for a year before they figured out I had a dental problem.
A comment about my teeth, and humans… I guess that thick slobber was a real big clue – duh, and humans think cats are dumb. I finally got into the car and went to my vet. A quick word to other cats who may be reading this – whenever you get into a car, it is rarely a good outcome.
My teeth were sensitive, my gums were sensitive and this vet starts poking and prodding and opening my mouth. It hurt, but, I since I was a laid-back cat, I just let him do his job. I expressed my discomfort with my eyes, but never meowed. Knowing what I know now, and having all my teeth pulled, except one, I probably wouldn’t have let him examine me; I would have meowed like crazy.
At least I know that they never have forgiven themselves for taking so long to diagnose my condition and subsequently they immediately took me to the vet whenever there was even a hint of any kind of problem.
I never, ever complained, about anything or anyone. The closest I ever got to meowing was when one of my humans would look right at me and loudly say, “The Goo.” To humor them back, I would just mouth (really just lip) a faint mew, but never a meow. Then I would go back to my nap.
I was the perfect cat. I was the perfect cat for Kenzie, Linda and Rod.
I hung around with all the humans, but when Kenzie went off to college, I adopted Rod as my full-time human (he really had no choice).
We developed quite a few rituals. One of my favorites was to wait and make sure he was comfortable on the couch and then jump on the coffee table, hop over to the far end of the couch, walk along the back support, then step onto his lap. That was usually good for at least 90 minutes of petting. Another favorite ritual of mine was I would wait until Rod was asleep on his stomach then jump up on the bed and sleep on his back as his rhythmic breathing would caress me into deep sleep.
But my favorite ritual was go into Rod’s office and nap next to his keyboard while he was typing. He placed a soft cat bed next to his keyboard and I would just lay on that, put both paws on his left arm, lay my chin down between my paws and feel the soft body vibrations throughout my body as he typed. That was usually good for at least an hour. I loved it. He did too.
So, when Rod needed to have his hip replaced, and his thigh muscles were always knotted up, I would place both my paws on his thigh and massage them for him. It was the least a perfect cat could do for her human.
I wasn’t really into music much, but when Rod got his Pandora subscription, we would listen to the Gato (who else) Barbieri play list. It seems every time the song Europa
was playing, I would just slowly stretch my whole body. I don’t know what it was about that song, but it played, I stretched. I let him play it a lot so he could watch me stretch.
I passed yesterday and even when the vet’s needle entered my leg, I never had to meow.
Today the song Europa just started playing from his speakers. I saw Rod stop typing. He had tears. So did I. Soon his nose began to run – thick and… umm, gooey, and he had no Kleenex (he used them all yesterday). He was now like me, ‘The Goo.’
But, I am still the original ‘The Goo’ and I was Rod’s perfect cat.
