Saturday, February 2, 2013

Spike Kavitz: 1998-2013





Spikus Aurilicus
Today I buried our family cat, Spike.  Digging his grave was a strenuous task...through cherry roots and orange clay.  Other easier options were available, but none befitted his stature within our lives.  He wasn't an easier-option cat, and he deserved to be memorialized with a well-chosen grave.  A sad cold February toil, alone.


His namesake Supertail
He was buried on Groundhog Day, 2013.  Had he seen one, he would have instantly despised groundhogs.  He would have kicked their ass.  Over the years, he battled raccoons, and large dogs with grit and bluster, emerging victorious every time.  As a kitten, he even battled his own reflection in the mirror, stopping when he realized this looked a little silly, and pretended it never happened.

On reflection, I don't believe Spike despised other animals, for in all other ways he had a very gentle nature.  Perhaps he just rejected the assumption made by these rivals that somehow he was on their level.  He was not.
 
He took his place alongside people. We were his peers and he belonged with us. When we went for a stroll through the neighborhood, he joined. Not like a dog might join, full of reckless curiosity, and certainly not to be led as a subordinate.  (Concerned for his safety, we once attempted a cat harness/leash.  We discovered on a leash Spike would have to be dragged, with the leash removed he would walk alongside just fine.)  No, Spike joined because we were his family, and since we were walking so would he.

He behaved as a free person.  He believed it too, and belief is a powerful thing.

So while Spike was intolerant of other animals, he was exceptionally tolerant of people. Especially of little Ella and Ethan.  He gave tremendous joy to my children, for which I am grateful.


Ella bonding with Spike









Spike enjoying life upgrades

  

Sketches of Spike by Ella Kavitz


Spike waited patiently his whole life for me to accept him as a peer. When at last I did, he died.  He visited me his last night alive, and we said our goodbyes.  I attended his final moments as his equal, not owner.  As his life-long companion there to ease his suffering, I rubbed his neck and cradled his head when he drifted peacefully to sleep for the last time.  He was a good cat.



Spike 1998-2013
 

Goodbye Spike.
Thank you for your time with us.