Ernie Monstrocat has gone, and my heart is breaking more than a little bit.
For those of you who read about Ernie, here or on Brenda Griffith’s blog, you know he was a special, special cat. He came to me almost by accident, as a foster kitty, and turned out to be a social maven of monumental proportions. (As well as a digital jinx.)
During Ernie’s stay with me he attracted more worshippers than the PTL Club, who’d show up with forbidden treats like bacon. Hamburgers. Shrimp cocktail. Canned tuna clutched in grubby little kidpaws.
You’d never have guessed Ernie’s real history. It would have taken a very special cat to survive all that, much less thrive, but that’s what Ernie was.
When it came time for Ernie to find a permanent home, I almost didn’t let it happen–if I hadn’t known that Brenda, Jessie and Dave were waiting at the other end, Ernie would have never gotten out of the house. Waiting in the airport for his flight to be called was one of the harder things I’ve done.
But they were there, they gave Ernie his own little girl, rabbit, dogs and bacon, and from the sounds of it he lived the life of, well, Ernie, until the very end. It came on suddenly, turned out to be metastatic cancer…and Ernie was gone. Just like that.
Thank you, Brenda, for taking such good care of my friend.