Remembrance of Cedric

I remember Cedric, our first and foremost cat.  From the get go a mutual understanding between the cat and we humans was forged, and mostly at the behest of The Cat.

We were travelling to Poughkeepsie to pick up one kitten of Tammy’s litter, the spawn of her mating with Smokey Sullivan.  On the way we realized that we should have a name ready, an elegant name. Thus, Cedric.  The notable British actor Sir Cedric Hardwick had come to mind, and that seemed appropriate.  Our friend had chosen a black kitten with white paws named Mittens for us.  We, however, chose a grey one instead, but were informed that it was already promised to others.  And then little Mittens spontaneously jumped into my lap, and we were chosen.  He was now our Cedric.

Cedric thrived and when our first child was born a strange thing happened.  We would close our bedroom door to prevent Cedric from sleeping in her bassinet.  One morning there were tear marks on the carriage we had parked outside of the door, obviously a cat attack.  We assumed Cedric was  motivated by jealousy.  I later came to believe that he was angry that  we had separated him from his new possession.  When my daughter reached toddler stage Cedric realized that he had a new toy.  He would hide as she toddled down the hallway and when she reached his location he would jump out and wave his paws at her. Throughout the years he would accept rough handling from her, or in his mind affection, without ever striking out or scratching her.

We moved to a new home, fifteen miles from our apartment. One night Cedric ran out and did not return the next morning.  Days passed, then a week, and we lamented that our dear pet was gone.  We had heard that pets will sometimes try to return to a previous home after a move.  And then, on the morning of the tenth day we heard a faint cry outside our bedroom window.  And there he was bedraggled and thinner.  He was perched on the hood of our car and saying, in  cat language I suppose, “I’m back.  Get me some food and a warm, soft place to sleep!”  He subsequently devoured a can of food, and then curled up on our bed.  He didn’t budge for three days.  Cedric never strayed far again after this episode  He was now master, at least in his own mind, of everything and everyone within 200 feet of his food bowl, and he was not about to give up an inch of his territory.  

He knew the neighbors and would visit them often to ascertain that they were keeping things in order.  When new people bought one of “his properties” he suddenly appeared in the neighbor’s kitchen; he hissed at this intruder and was not about to let the order of his universe be disrupted.  One year at Passover time the traditional seder, or holiday service and meal, was being celebrated by our neighbors as well as at our home.  Cedric was out and about.  There is a part of the observance  when the Profit Elijah is honored.  Elijah’s cup is part of the service, and when his name is mentioned one of the children opens the front door to allow him entry and to partake of the cup of wine left in his honor.  At this point in our neighbor’s seder their youngest child opened the front door, and, in walked Cedric.  Our feline Elijah, or a cat with an enormous ego?  A coincidence?  I still wonder, to this day!

Cedric’s sense of territorial realm was not to be treated lightly.  He enjoyed the company of humans, but barely tolerated other animals, particularly dogs, and cats that entered his domain.  His nemeses were our neighbor’s schnauzer as well as Prince, my in-laws’ poodle.  During one visit Cedric was sitting with us on our deck while Prince and the schnauzer were playfully, I presume, jumping and barking at each other.  Cedric was not about to let this situation get out of hand so he ran down, stood in a raised position between the two dogs and kept swatting their noses until they ceased the disturbance.  Could he have been the reincarnation of some boxing referee? It’s best that we don’t go there!  And then, I remember when my daughters brought home “Lucy the Duck” from nursery school.  I dutifully built a pen to keep her from wandering.   Cedric hated Lucy and was equally in disdain of a neighbor’s gentle, lovable golden retriever.  He always avoided them both.  One day I looked out and saw the friendly dog looking inquisitively at Lucy.  But to Cedric this canine  interloper was possibly going to harm a resident of his domain.  This would not do.  He ran to the duck pen, jumped on top and started swatting the dog, to wit the golden retriever simply obeyed and returned to his home.  To our cat Lucy may have been an annoyance, but she was his possesion!  When one considers the size difference between these two creatures, the sense of self confidence of our cat was immediately apparent. 

I often wonder about the apparent understanding between cats, more specifically, my cat and humans is all about.  Is there some lesson to be learned that could serve as a beacon in the mess in which humankind is embroiled?  Here is an animal showing affection and caring beyond the members of its species.  However, it is fiercely territorial and observes strict boundaries, and is intolerant of interlopers.  Are these not the human traits that have caused wars and suffering within our world? If we return to the phrase “understanding between”,  I can see where our 19 years of having Cedric in our lives helps to answer the question.  The innate feelings and reactions, although potentially capable of producing negative results seemed to always work out for the best. Actions were always expressed to show intention without the use of violence.   Without being maudlin, I must admit that we had great affection for this mere cat.  To us he was not defined by the adjective mere, but was a unique, intelligent being. 

Cedric entered the final stage of physical decline in his 19^th year.  He often lost his way, as well as the personality we had known and admired.  Then one day he became comatose and we knew the end was near.  We laid him on a soft pillow about 10 feet from our bedroom door.  We stroked his head with  heavy hearts and feelings of love and farewell.  By morning Cedric had made his final journey.  He had struggled to achieve  one last attempt to reach us; that’s who he was!  We found him lying just outside the door;  he just couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.