Though I was a young male in a family of macho athletes and had a dad who coached basketball, I realized I had a soft spot for pets, mainly cats. I was infatuated with my neighbor’s cat, a brown Siamese, and knew I must have one. In order to sway my parents to buy me one, I read up on all the information on the care and keeping of cats that the library. Eventually, I did get my wish for my 9th birthday. Macane, affectionately called “Mac” became an important part of my life, until he died a few years later to my devastation.
One would know my cat was important to me as you saw him in numerous family photographs. When company would come over to our home, I was sure to show him off to them. One quirky thing about Macane and I was that every year on March 5th, my mom would get a cake, and a toy for my cat to celebrate his birthday. I suppose it was a little overzealous being so crazy about him.
My cat was the first pet my family had, and he was mine to care for. A few times a year, I would leave for basketball camps and my pet behind. It was not for long, and surely my mother would feed Mac, but I would be concerned about him until I returned. It’s a bit silly for a “jock” like me to care so much about something so simple, but that is the way it was. I took meticulous care of Macane, but everything that lives, eventually dies.
The memory of Mac’s life and death still haunts me. I vividly remember the scene of “tough” boys playing a cruel game of soccer with my cat. My two older brothers came to the rescue, but it was too late. Mac was gone. It is a real tragedy to lose someone or something, and I was absolutely crushed. I put him in a box, and then went alone into the night under a large evergreen tree where I would give even road kill a proper burial. I cried when no one could see me. The lump in my throat prevented me from talking about my cat for a long time. I am a true animal lover, and it was hard to get over Macane. I believe something as simple as owning a pet taught me about love, loss and moving on. Years later, I moved to America, and had to start life over once again and not just with a new cat. Life is always moving forward, ready, willing or not.
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