This is clearly a crazy cat lady post. Feel free to run if you 1) Don’t like cats for whatever reason or 2) Think cat writing tributes are completely ridiculous.
If you’re still here, also know that I haven’t lost it or hit a wall with my writing. I simply thought it was time to write a tribute to my old lady cat, Panda (real name: Aphrodite) while she’s still here in the realm of humans, rather than writing one later when she moves on.
Why do we write tributes after humans and animals die anyway? Isn’t it better to honor them while they’re alive? Without further ado…
1. You’re a One-Percenter in the Cat World
In cat years, you’re 16, which makes you an 80-year-old in human years. The average domestic cat lifespan is 15.1 years, yet here you are…old as fuck.
You usually have snot in your whiskers, because your weakened immune system results in mild monthly cases of pneumonia. You bitch a lot and you walk like John Wayne. But, you’re still you—an aggressive cuddler dressed in the finest fur tuxedo.
2. Your Flat Ass Has Exploded Many Times
Your ass is one of the many wonders about you, Panda. You don’t really have an ass. Me, Mr. H, and our other cat, Puss, all have junk in the trunk. Perhaps this explains why you stepped up your game with an explosive ass.
I won’t go into details, because there’s no need to rehash such memories. By the third ass explosion, we fell into a rhythm with the vet and all was well. Your no-ass just kept on pushing.
3. You’re an Excellent Nurse
About a week after we adopted you, I got a wicked migraine. You climbed onto my chest when I was lying down and hovered close to my face. I was about to throw you off, since I was in so much pain and I wanted to puke. Then, you put your paw over my left eye where the pain was and I cried.
Over the years, you’ve always been there—through flus, hangovers, funerals, layoffs, and unjust hospital bills. Your nursing skills are unmatched.
4. You Became a Bond Villain
Last February a nasty red bump appeared on your lower right eyelid and it wouldn’t go away. The only choice to remove the bump was to put you under, a risky move at your age, even a year ago.
We decided not to do that because we realized you had reached self-actualization—the Bond villain from Casino Royale, Le Chiffre. Occasionally you weep blood from your eye, which makes you look like an evil genius with a softer side.
5. You’re a Natural Yogi
Some cats do gentler practices, but you are an advanced yogi, Panda. Cat-cow and cobra took on a whole new meaning with you perched on my back.
During supine twisted poses on the floor, you positioned yourself on the appropriate hip to help me experience deeper body benefits. Pawmaste.
6. You’re Not Actually a Cat
We’ve confirmed that you’re not a cat in the above points. Even the vet made this claim during your last antibiotics refill field trip. You stood up on your back legs and hugged her the whole time.
She said: “This isn’t catlike behavior.” Oh, we know.
7. You Symbolize Our 15 Years of Marriage
We adopted you right after Mr. H and I got married. That was going on 15 years ago. Mr. H named you Aphrodite, because you are a love goddess that came into our lives at the same time that we solidified our love. We were all so young and clueless back then…now we’re all just old and clueless.
You’ve been with us through all of the ups and downs of life, including two cross-country moves when you screamed your head off in the car in 8-hour increments. Eventually, you forgave us.
8. Your Love is Unflappable
Whenever the vet tries to listen to your heart with the kitty stethoscope, she struggles. Because you won’t stop purring. Remember that time the vet’s assistant tried to make you stop? She attempted to scare you, she gave you an unpleasant scent to smell…nothing worked.
Even when I tell you it’s not “cuddle time,” because I’m working or whatever, you climb on top of me without remorse. You sternly remind me that there is always time for love, come what may.
I know the day will come when I have to say goodbye to you, Panda. For now, I’ll keep wiping your Le Chiffre eye and your snotty whiskers. I’ll crush up antibiotics and sneak them into your smelly wet food. I’ll hug your skinny body and savor the healing powers of your purrs.
I’ll always love you, Panda, you crazy no-ass non-cat.