Yesterday would have been Sarah’s 13th birthday. I’ve spent the weeks mourning her rapid decline. In the past days I have been mourning the decision to let her go. It will be some time before I get used to her absence. Maybe I never will but that’s not the way I want to remember her. I want to remember her wild and determined to live how she deemed life should be lived.
I have never met a more social cat. She forced me to have many more relationships with my local community than I felt comfortable with. To my neighbors I am generally known as Sarah’s Mom or Sarah’s Human before I am known as Luna. She was so vocal it almost seemed like she thought she was using words to speak to people, I could understand her for the most part and I am sure that many others could too. She could say my name in people speak although it sounded more like “oona”, and she could also say “no”. I was so proud of her for figuring that out so well. “No” was not something I taught her, that was something she taught me.
I knew within the first months of knowing her that she belonged to herself and that I was in the service of her freedom as much as I was able. We made few compromises. She had to wear a collar, she had to have ID chips implanted, she had to wear a loud bell to warn small animals of her presence, she had to be sterile, and she was only allowed to be outside when I was home and it wasn’t too dark outside. It was only the last compromise that we struggled with, the two of us. We spent her first years walking together; she on a leash and I talking to her about dogs and cars. She learned how to cross the street with me. She learned how to walk in the bushes and not run from dogs. She learned how to climb trees. What I did not teach her was how to flirt with men, she learned that all by herself. In her last years she developed really intimate relationships with other men in my apartment complex, spending time with them in their apartments and napping while I was doing whatever I was doing. She even left them presents at their door.
Although at first there were complaints about the cat going in and out of the apartment complex over the years people began to appreciate her company and how the mice problems of years past had disappeared. She forced me to defend my decision to let her outside more often than I cared for but the truth is that it wasn’t my decision at all. Sarah just would not have it any other way. I knew that her happiness depended a lot on her autonomy. That was her reason to live and I admired the life in her.
I don’t really believe in having pets. I think that it’s lamentable to think that animals exist in the world for us to have something from which we can extract emotional support. It’s not that I don’t believe in the bond that exists between us and them but it’s often a forced relationship which places a hierarchical value on human lives over those of other animals. That feels so unnatural to me and it has caused an unnatural over population of certain animals which suffer from this industry of forced companionship. It places many animals in precarious situations where many suffer unspeakable lives. I have thought this way for several years. Mostly because I grew up an only child who had more animal companions than humans and I don’t feel like it has ever been a fair exchange no matter how good I become at caring for other species.
I didn’t want Sarah. A friend had taken in a stray cat who turned out to be pregnant and I had just returned from volunteering at an animal refuge where I took care of an Ocelot who had been separated from her Mother due to poaching in the jungle. The idea that people are responsible for the lives of these animals placed in impossible situations was fresh in my mind. I told my friend Leyla to give me the cat that nobody else wanted. I ended up with the the little one who didn’t give a shit about the people around her, choosing instead to climb over everything with her insatiable curiosity. She was the tiniest little leopard with tiger stripes and an M on her forehead which recalled Milly the Ocelot to me. She was perfect and I promised her that I would give her the best life I could possibly give her.
Sarah would go with me from Virginia to California, my first big move alone running from inevitable heart break. She had seen me in my loneliest depressions when I could barely get up to take care of myself, pawing at my face at exactly 7:00 in the morning forcing me to get up to feed her. I always did even when I didn’t have the energy to feed myself. She also always found a way to get me to go outside with her. Even if it meant that she was going to wait outside for me to go out and find her because she knew I needed to go outside and I was being stupid. When my depressions got particularly bad and I couldn’t get out of bed she chose instead to sleep with flatmates to punish me. She has been my reason to get out of bed more often than anyone will ever know. I haven’t had to use an alarm clock all this time. She set the rhythm in my days. For this I will always be grateful.
She arrived in Berlin before me where she adapted long before I could. I think these last 5 years were some of our best years together. I watched her teach two other cats how to cat and really take ownership of this city block. She introduced me and Pablo to the foxes who live here in her territory. It’s things like this that reminded me of the magic in the every day. She was the greatest source of all of that for me, and I don’t think that I was entitled to it at all. I just really wanted to watch her be the cat she wanted to be and make as much space for her to do that as I was able. She trusted me more than anyone and it has been my greatest privilege to know that she chose to come back to me every day even though so many of her other humans would be happy to have her. I think my left hip will forever remember her. I imagine it will be like her right hip reminded her of that fight she had with a raccoon when she was younger. My hip and knees still reserving the spot between my legs after all of these years for her to curl up in until her last days.
I know that my life will not be the same without her. There’s a painful emptiness in my chest. I can’t sleep through the night and I don’t wake up at the same time anymore. My front door stays closed. I miss her bell coming up the stairs and her yelling my name. I miss the feeling of being claimed by her and her paws pressing against me telling me that she feels safe before falling asleep. She would often appear in my dreams to make fun of my ego trips or to approve of the black jaguar that she told me not to fear. She was the first thing I saw every morning. She was my dawn. She was never afraid to howl.
I have always known that I wanted to be more like Sarah. I hope people don’t confuse our relationship by thinking that she was here on earth to do anything for me or to teach me anything. I was merely blessed to have been able to witness her. What a beautiful being. My partner, my friend. My love. I will always be grateful.
Sarah
Those who do not have a good relationship with their unconscious cannot tolerate a cat. A cat does not relate to the appearance of a person. She sees much more, she sees their insides, she sees them backwards and upside down. A cat can see everything you wish you could hide and everything you wish others could see.