I felt very sad hearing my friend Arthur had to put his kitty to sleep. Apparently Virgil had stopped eating and was plainly suffering, with no clear diagnosis in sight.
“I made the decision I hope someone would make for me under the same circumstances, ” Arthur said.
It has to be the hardest thing to do, to let go of that loving creature who stood beside you through thick and thin…who never cared how you looked or what shape you came home in.
Makes a break-up feel like a paper cut.
Arthur, a rather stoic man, you can bet felt the loss down to his core Virg being his best buddy not to mention first mate.
There’s something rather romantic about two men living on a houseboat. Images of Errol Flynn in Captain Blood and Burt Lancaster as The Crimson Pirate come to mind. I’m certain Arthur has dozens of women he has to beat off with a stick, or oar in his case.
I can see them all arriving in white pants, parkas and pumps (for that touch of high seas glamour) balancing cakes and casseroles.
I never met Virgil, but heard great stories about him…how he loved tuna, Starkist I believe, and liked to sun himself on deck, coming in and out at will. Must have been so much fun for him with Long Island Sound as his oyster. Of course when it rained it was a totally different story. Like any smart creature, Virgil preferred a cozy spot on Arthur’s bed to the raging sea any day.
I thought about the many pets I put down now resting in my armoire: Inky and Margie, Mittens, Missy and Boo all cremated placed in tiny white boxes that look like General Tso’s Chicken to go.
It’s hard saying good-bye, but like Arthur said, when it’s our time, rather than pain and torment the most humane thing would be to check out with dignity.
So Virgil kitty, wherever you’re docked on that big houseboat in the sky, we’re all thinking of you today. And if you run into Inky, Margie, Mittens, Missy or Boo (or Errol), tell them to behave themselves…tell them mama said so. Virgil Seder