Saturday, November 13, 2010

Miles Nickle Fernandez - 2006-2010

A moment of silence, for Miles - the four-year-old black tabby who carved a groove on my shoulder and a deep, infected gouge in my heart. As you can see by the picture above, he was an agile, merciless little familiar of a cat - named for Miles Davis, so as to make a matched set with his lifelong house-mate Dizzy.  Miles was never a picture of health - he spent the first few months of his life locked in a room while he worked the ringworm out of his system. He never did get rid of the feline herpes, so endured a life-long bout of the sniffles that, while endearingly cute, would have driven any lesser cat insane.

Miles was not insane. What he was, was deeply and persistently affectionate. He liked shoulders best, but he was also fond of waking up his humans with a relentless kneading-of-the-bladder, or a damp, snotty head-butt. He ate head-phone wires like licorice, and refused to pay for the replacements. But no one complained. Everybody loved Miles. Miles loved everybody.

He died Friday night, after a week in the tender and competent care of The Animal Clinic in Toronto.  There was something with his kidneys - to the end, no one could figure out precisely what. But whatever it was, it wore him down, and wore him out, and by dinner time Friday, it was time.

He was cuddled by the people who loved him most for hours before that time came.  A whole day. Then the results of his last blood test came, showing that there was only really one course.

The veterinarian warned us about various indignities we might witness: he might twitch, or yowl, or void his bladder when the anaesthetic overdose took effect.

He was quiet. He was still. And having thoughtfully insisted on using his litter box just minutes before the veterinarian returned, he was dry.  He finished his life with immense dignity, in the loving arms of his humans. And that's something.

Miles Nickle Fernandez.  Four years old is too damn young.

5 comments:

A said...

I'm so sorry to read this. My deepest condolence to Miles' humans!! Four years is indeed a very short lifetime.

PixelFish said...

Aw, man, I'm sorry. Poor Miles-cat. *hugs to you guys in Torontoland*

Peter Watts said...

I am tearing up. He was a great little cat. He should have had so many more miles in him.

proudinjun said...

David,
So sorry to hear about the loss of your friend and companion, Miles. The loss of anyone that we love, be it human or animal, is a traumatic event. Time may heal all wounds, but there will always be that little empty spot in your soul left by the loss. May your grief be relieved a little by the memories that you will always have of him. My deepest condolences, my friend.

sally said...

Dave, I never met Miles, but I'm glad his short life was made happy and loving by his human companions. Your shoulder will be feeling very empty for a while.