On March 17, 1998 I was in Tennesee with my Mom; she was attending a funeral. Some thing wonderful was going on at home. Our cat, Marbles, had 3 kittens in our closet. Two males one female, one male orange tabby and the other two black and white, one male with long hair and the other two with short. Happy, healthy, playful kittens. A few months later Momma cat ran away and took her daughter with her. We had already given away the male tabby. Not intending to keep them, we had not named them. So we kept ‘the hairy kitten’ which was eventually shortened to “Hairy.” My sons were there to see the birth. They were 4, 5, and 8 years old. We welcomed Hairy as a part of our family. He liked to sleep in front of the sliding glass door. He absolutely loved my mom. She could not sit at the bar without a cat jumping up behind her. Other than that, he did not like to be held. He slept on the foot of our bed, and before joining us, made rounds checking on the boys every night.
We moved when Hairy was 3. The new house was much larger and Hairy enjoyed running the length of it during the midnight ‘crazies’ all cats demonstrate. We got him a window perch so he could look out the window at the birds and squirrells in the front yard. We bought a brush for him. Every morning my husband brushed the long soft fur. He was beautiful.
When my mom got cancer for a second time, she stayed with us while being treated. Hairy stayed with her. He either slept on her legs or beside her on the floor.
When my middle son, who was quiet, needed to talk, he talked to Hairy. Hairy listened and never told any of his secrets. He was just there for a lonely middle child.
Hairy got a bladder infection. We thought we might loose him. We took him to the Vet early on a Sunday. We were lucky. If we had waited, we would have. We took him home a day later.
My youngest son loved Hairy from day one. Hairy was a toy, a pillow, a security blanket.
Even my sons’ friends loved Hairy.
Hairy taught my sons love. He taught them compassion for those weaker than themselves. He taught them responsibility, even when it smells bad. And at last he taught us all mercy.
Hairy began to deteriorate after he spent a night outside and got into a fight with something much larger. There was a large puncture wound near his hip. We took him to the vet for treatment. He did fairly well for about 2 years after that. Slowly he began to loose control of himself. Sometimes he didn’t make it to the litter box. He lost weight. A large cat, Hairy weighed in at over 16 pounds. At last check, he weighed 7. Last week he began to vomit. My husband, Hairy’s chosen person, had taken him to the vet about his health a month or so before, but got no diagnosis, and testing was prohibited by expense. We tried antibiotics and steroids, but nothing helped. This last weekend proved that not only was he very sick, he was suffering. Unable to hold down food, what was already there went out at the same time everything else came up. He cried all night.
This morning at 8:30 am, we carried out the decision to let him go. He died peacefully, and did not suffer. My middle son, now 19, and I were with him.
Goodbye my friend.
Hairy Mahoney
March 17, 1998 – September 4, 2012