Today I had confirmation of our worst fears for the last two weeks. My darling cat Frank was found dead. He had been hit by a car about two weeks ago and was hidden from view. My mother has spent the last two weeks canvassing the neighborhood with flyers with Frank's photo. On Sunday my parents went knocking on doors of a condo community just below us on the hill. There they met a woman who knew and liked Frank. Frank used to come hang out with her and her bichon frise, Maxwell in her backyard. It's because of her that we were able to find his body and to get closure over his disappearance. I love knowing about a friend he had. Him befriending an older lady and her dog seems just right for my Frank, as he loved people and loved hanging out.
I was exceedingly lucky with Frank. I choose him entirely based on looks, and he turned out to have a fantastic personality. My co-worker's parents' cats had kittens and she sent photos around. I wasn't even looking for a cat, but I saw a photo of a little gray kitten with white socks and I knew we were meant to be. I didn't even know if he was a boy or girl, I just wanted that cat in my life.
He was such a fun cat. He loved people and he loved being out on our hill at my parents' house. He was happiest on a sunny day, sitting in the catmint munching or sprawled out on the flagstones, listening to us talk and work in the yard. I have never known a cat that was so full of joy. When you would go outside, and walk up the hill, he would dart past you and run in a way that conveyed pure bliss. He was a show-off too, and would occasionally jump up on a tree trunk, and look back at you, hanging, as if to say, "Aren't I great?" He was. He loved us and we loved him.
When our family dog died several years ago, my mother wrote my siblings and I an email. In it she said this, which I have paraphrased to every friend who has lost a pet since. Her words are so true:
I have always thought humans were so lucky to have these marvelous creatures to have as friends and companions in life. The happiest humans out there are those who love their pets, great and small. And I, personally, have cast a beady eye upon those who don't get it. A part of me stands suspicious of them, sensing something missing.
We are so lucky to have pets in our lives. They enrich our lives and I think they make us better humans. I miss you, Frank. We did not get enough time together.
I am so sorry to hear this news about your dear Frank, but, yes, as you say, it is good to know what happened to him. You were very lucky to have known such a wonderful and loving cat as Frank... xo
Posted by: Gracia | November 10, 2011 at 11:39 PM
P.S. I love the Frank photos you shared in this post.
Posted by: Gracia | November 10, 2011 at 11:40 PM
Awww, Claire. I know you loved him so much. I am so very sorry for your loss and am glad you shared these photos and good memories of Frank.
Posted by: Amanda | November 11, 2011 at 12:25 AM
I am so sincerely sorry for your loss.
Posted by: Mrsgeedeck | November 11, 2011 at 01:47 AM
Wow. This post broke me down to tears, seriously. Thank god you gave Frank the best life possible. It's so sad what happened, but like someone else mentioned, it's great to have all these beautiful images to have forever.
Stay strong.
Nick
Posted by: Nick Leonard | November 11, 2011 at 02:48 AM
Claire, I haven't stopped crying since I read this, I am so sorry for you. I only met Frank twice (in two different cities) but feel like he was part of my life through your pictures and posts. I'll miss him. xxx
Posted by: Alexandra | November 11, 2011 at 05:42 AM
I'm so sorry, Claire.
Posted by: Kristen | November 11, 2011 at 06:26 AM
Claire...I am so sorry. This is horrible. I never spent any time with him, but I feel as if I did through your photographs. He will be missed by so many, I am sure.
Posted by: david | November 11, 2011 at 07:31 AM
i am so very sorry for your loss. losing a pet is one on the hardest things. but i love your mom's words. so true. xoxo
Posted by: jodi | November 11, 2011 at 09:26 AM
Growing up in a pretty testosterone filled household, I was taught at an early age not to like cats. There was always a sense of weakness placed on them (looking back, I think it's because my Dad is really allergic).
In any case, I never had my own cat growing up, and was always averse to being around them, mostly because, in my mind, a cat belonged next to the other frilly things in the pink aisle at the toy store.
When Libby and I started dating, I knew that I would have to get used to cats being around. Her cats' behavior just reinforced the idea I had in my head: somewhat aloof, and definitely not manly.
As the years went by, the cats became more accustomed to me. This brought about a mini identity-crisis where I constantly asked myself if it was okay to like this type of pet that I have been conditioned to hate all of my years.
Then I met Frank. If a man's man ever wanted a cat, it would be Frank. Colored in a grey fur that was more akin to gun metal than to stuffed animal, Frank was a true defender of his turf. He had the cold-blooded instincts of Tony Montana, the heart and toughness of Augustus McCray, and the speed and rugged good looks of Bullitt. I never met a cat that was always ready to wrestle. Mind you, I'm not saying "play," but wrestle. He wrestled in the ways brothers wrestle each other: one wrong move gets you a paw upside the head, but it's no hard feelings afterwards.
Frank was a great friend. It is because of Frank that I now not only tolerate cats, but actually enjoy them. We are all lucky to have known Frank, and we will all miss him.
Posted by: Ryan Kinney | November 11, 2011 at 09:40 AM