Sunday, June 11, 2006

Monsieur B.

After all the craziness of my week: writing, making phone calls (did I mention that I've been doing admin assistant work for a friend since April until the end of June?), work, double work, a visit from the vet, a bad night catering in terms of some poor choices made by colleagues, world cup fever (I still haven't seen the Argentina game -- D. taped it for me while I was working, but...the tape broke). After all this...none of it is really worth getting worked up over. This was nothing compared to my mom's week. On Friday, June 9th my mother had to make the awful choice of euthanizing her beautiful kitty Mr. B. My poor mother has had a hectic week. She had to deal with bed bugs that came from??? no one knows for sure (her suitcase, or from the moth problem she had recently? Aparently, they can hitch a ride with you from pretty much anywhere or can exist in an empty place for months. So, she's dealing with getting rid of things, washing bags of laundry, tossing the mattress, buying another one AND she's about to have her play, Gorgeous, open in the Montreal Fringe and is trying to poster, flyer etc etc. Meanwhile, Mr. B. is sick and getting worse. Fortunately, my sister was in town working and helped mom make the decision. My mother's closest friend (and a great admirer of Mr. B's) went to the vet with mom. I'm so grateful mom wasn't alone.

Again, if I could put photos up I would. I'll get photos up as soon as I can of Monsieur B.

It's frustrating being far away and not being able to get away sometimes. I just wanted to be there for mom. Of course I'm sad for Monsieur B. because I loved him like so many of us did -- he was such a sweet little guy (big guy really) -- but I was more upset for my mom, knowing how distressed she was, is and will be. I'm grateful she's busy so she can have moments to take her away from her grief. Maybe that's part of the grieving process? Maybe we can't grieve unless we have those moments of normality that remind us of the loss when we return to our place of grief because eventually we are confronted with a disruption in that normality? There's something quite beautiful in those moments when we forget about our grief. We become grateful for life as it is.

I spoke to mom today and she told me about the great success of her opening night last night for the play and how elated she was. She had fun and enjoyed the company of all her supporters and a near full house! She saw another fringe show and thoroughly enjoyed it. She told me about her journey home and getting on the wrong bus, or thinking she was on the wrong bus. She got off and found everything to be quite still and calm, very quiet. She felt a little down. She ran into a friend who said it often feels like this after an opening of a play. There's another layer for mom though (I think). There's an emptiness or...the thought of Mr. B with her. Fortunately, she also has another kitty at home, Filston, who didn't really get along with Mr. B. but they coexisted as best they could.

Mr. B. will be missed by many people. He walked into my mother's life while she was in the hospital. In '97 my mom had a pretty severe accident that kept her in hospital for several months. My sister stayed at my mom's apartment a lot and this poor street tomkitty who was nothing but bones and this big, big face would eat outside the apartment. He had been on the street for several years. I don't think anyone really knows his age or how long he'd been on the street. My sister and my mom were well aware of who he was. I think sis convinced mom to take "Big face" into her home. Mom called him Big face because of the size of his head in relation to his body. Soon however, he filled out and just became a big cat...a really big cat.

He was gentle and loving. For a "tough" street cat who had once been shy and skittish he certainly warmed up to people. He had a community of people who loved him. Mr. B. loved a lap and would purr very loudly while kneading his paws on your lap or stomach or wherever he settled. I'm grateful that I was able to see him in April when I drove L. and the cast of characters to Montreal. He was a great cat and will be very much missed by many people on Waverly and all over who had the chance to know him.


Wandering Coyote said...

It's always so hard when a pet dies. I've never been faces with the decision of euthanasia, but I have left cats I've loved dearly behind more than once and it's so difficult.

Another bed bug story! Oh my God. My heart goes out to your mom; as you know, I've just been through the same thing and there is a lot of work and expense involved. Not to mention the thought that you were being eaten alive while sleeping. I hope she gets a good exterminator and that the issue will be resolved soon. They can come from anywhere; you'll probably never know. They're harded to get rid of in apartments because they travel around.

I remember your mom's accident of '97. I've been meaning to ask you how she's been. I did not know she was a playwrite.

sp said...

I don't think mom knew she was a playwrite. She's always written fiction and has written for radio. This is her first play so it's pretty exciting for all involved.

red jane said...

I was so sad to hear of Mr. B and his passing- it's never easy; but thankfully, there were good things too- I wish I could get to see her show- you must review it here for all of us to see!I'm glad she wasn't alone- I think keeping busy is a blessing and a curse; you put it very well in your post. Send her all my good wishes.

mom said...

thanks to everyone for your kind words and thoughts...losing Mr. B is one of the toughest things I've done...not the decision to do it because he had a brain tumour and I wanted him to die with dignity before he got too disabled and in more pain. He had stopped eating and what little he did eat, he threw up. The hardest part for me was the day I made the decision, he was playing with a string in the hallway. Such a sweet little guy. I'm missing him more now that I have time to think about him. Fiston, my other cat and Mr. B were enemies...two males...two street cats...and according to the cat lady, they knew each other on the street. Well Fiston is a different cat now, relaxed happy, totally in control.
I'll always remember my little buddy who was llike a best friend.
thanks again for taking the time to make me feel better. S's mom.