Our friend George died last Thursday. He ate a big breakfast, purred beside Kate as she read the paper, then stretched out on the foot of a bed and never woke up. Kate and Jim say it was a peaceful way to go, but so sudden it was a shock. They are a mess.
When George arrived at the McMullan's, he was a little thing, but his personality was strong, even then. Jim wanted to name him Hector. But Leigh started calling him George, and the name fit.
George was only thirteen when he died , but he was a hefty one, so maybe that's what did him in. That boy loved his kibble. George was a looker, but he had brains, too, and kept up with the latest books.
George loved licking Jim's cereal bowl. He loved snuggling with Leigh and Kate. He loved spreading out his large body in a passageway and looking at Toby and me as if daring us to try to get by. I usually made a run for it, but Toby mostly waited for a human to escort him by George the Terrible.
George didn't like closed doors, visiting dogs, visiting humans, or the vet. Getting him into a cat carrier was all but impossible, so he had a house-call vet, and the vet always brought along an assistant to help handle George. More than once, the assistant was bleeding and bandaged when she left, and Kate slipped her 'combat pay.' It was never a good idea to mess around with George.
When Kate and Jim found George on the foot of the bed last Thursday, they wrapped him in a soft towel. Kate held him and cried and cried while Jim dug a hole in the backyard, and they buried him beside three other McMullan cats, Annie, Groucho, and Wendy. This is the first time in thirty-five years that Kate and Jim haven't had a cat.
The day George died, there was such sadness in our house. Toby wouldn't take treats and he moped around like he'd lost his best friend. I managed to eat my treats, but I felt the same way.
We all miss you, Georgie.
George McMullan
Bye George, you will be missed. Fisher however, will not be missing you. He still has the scar of the first and last meeting with you. He didnt see it coming, none of us did. George, you opened a closed glass sliding door, ran out, swatted Fisher on his face and ran back in the house. You were so fast and surprisingly strong! Im stil wondering if you closed the door behind you when you ran back in the house.
ReplyDeleteNo harm done, Fisher survived and was the hero in the neighborhood. How many dogs have faced the wrath of George and lived to tell the tale? I'll bet not too many.
George you had a good life,an awesome family and you will be missed. I would say thats about as good as it gets, which is pretty good indeed! RIP, Eileen
Dear All,
ReplyDeleteI am so sad to hear of George's passing. He was one heck of a cat.
Sending heartfelt warmth to all of the McMullans.
xo, Sally
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ReplyDeleteSally, I'll pass your love on to Kate and Jim. He was one heck of a cat. xo
ReplyDeleteEileen! We all wear our George scars proudly. He got me in the eyeball once. Toby, too.
ReplyDeleteKate really got a kick out of your story. She says she remembers that day -- you all just stood there with your mouths open, watching George at work. She says it was a screen door, and he put his claws through the mesh. Still, an impressive feat! What a cat.
Dear Pinkie,
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry to hear of George's passing. I am a young naive frenchie and I have never met a being of the feline persuasion (and after reading of George's antics, I'm a little scared to) but all the same, June, Isabel, Tigger, Paul and myself are thinking of you and your family at this difficult time.
Love,
Mister Gustov
Thanks, Mister G and all -- Cats can be scary if you don't know them, but George sort of came around after our first hundred encounters. After a while, he acted as if he wanted to be a dog. Who can blame him?
ReplyDeleteKate and Jim send thanks for your nice note.