My little Oranje.
I got Marley in 2001 when I was living in Amsterdam with Mr. NC. I missed having the companionship of a dog but knew due to my lifestyle another one would not be feasible. Mr. NC knew I wanted one and although he was not a pet person generally he agreed that I should get one.
Almost right away, as though it was meant to be, Terra found an online ad for a cat being given away: "My name is Marley and my family is moving back to New Zealand. Please adopt me!" She forwarded it to me and therefore I really really need to thank Terra for being the one to find me such a great cat.
When I went to the family’s flat to meet Marley, I was immediately taken by his saucer eyes and big fat flews. He also jumped right into my lap, which sealed the deal pretty quickly.
He was a bit ragged from the beginning. He had been adopted by the New Zealanders a year or two before from the Amsterdam SPCA. He had been a street cat, and his right ear was serrated from some long ago canal brawl. He always snored. Later a vet would tell me this is an affliction called "permanent snuffles", and if he’d been a street cat and contracted then recovered from mild distemper that’s why he had it. I do not think the New Zealanders were overly nurturing carers either – he needed brushing badly and I scrubbed his face hard the first day I had him.
Marley took to me right away and sat in my lap or generally followed me around. He was not an overly affectionate cat the way Gus is – he did not like to cuddle, but he was very happy to sit on laps and chests for a session of petting. He LOVED getting right on the breastbone with his face right up next to yours (see yesterday’s picture for an example).
A little known fact about Marley is that Marley was not his real name. No, it was an alias. The Amsterdam SPCA named him Hall. It’s true! It’s in his little kitty passport. I called him Marlyebone most of the time, though I was also fond of calling him Jacob Marley and my little Oranje and talking to him in Dutch.
He is the favorite with visitors. Marley loves visitors. When people spent the night, I would invariably find him sleeping in their beds. His favorites were Danielle and Jeremy. He was also quite fond of Niko and Dabney. Dabney is allergic to cats but he always seemed to gravitate to her chair to beg for treats. He was a real hang-out, social type of cat. Maybe because I had him when I had lots of parties. Or maybe he just really enjoyed people.
He could be pretty grumpy and annoying though. Some people who have read this for a while might recall me complaining about his techniques for waking me up in the morning. He would pull my hair with his teeth. He would bite my nose. But certainly Marley’s favorite method the past couple years was to find anything paper on the floor and start tearing it into pieces. The sound of tearing paper in the morning is, I assure you, very very irritating. It worked. We tried to clear the floor of any paper every evening – newspaper, books, bills, etc. – but he always found SOMETHING to tear to bits.
Last winter, when he had to have his eye removed, I started to worry about him already, as he was a pretty old cat by that time and the infection in his eye was making him pretty miserable. But the veterinarians at Angell Memorial Hospital were certain he would be ok, and he was! He really was a new cat for the last year and a half. But of course I started to prepare myself a little bit mentally anyway. I knew he had another cat life he cashed in, and he couldn’t have that many more at his age.
I suppose I might have seen the signs earlier if I had not been travelling so much this year. I’m sure a lot of the weight loss probably happened over June, when I was not here at all. But it was really after the Chicago trip that I looked at him and knew something just was not right. He was very thin, breathing harder, and sleeping in his basket a lot. I’ve beat myself up a little wondering if I should have taken him in last week. But I’m glad I did not, if only because he did come out of his basket once to give me a last chest cuddle. When he was sitting there I just had the feeling it might be the last time, or something, and I asked David to take some pictures.
So when the vet said Tuesday night that he had cancer in his lungs I knew I would not let him live any longer struggling, and I knew the last few days he had been struggling. I wanted him for one more night, and David and I fed him tuna and treats and I loved on him best he would let me at that stage.
When we had him in the car I put my hand in his crate so I could pet him on the way there. Loving a cat is so different than loving a dog. Generally it is a more subtle relationship. It’s a quieter love. I thought maybe he was past being affectionate by last night, just too sick to care. But he put his paw on top of my hand and it felt like he was holding my hand, letting me know it was ok. I know this is probably silly, but that is what it felt like, and it did make me feel better.
It was harder to be brave than I thought it was going to be. When they gave him the first shot, which is just a sedative to relax him, he buried his little face in the palm of my hand, which broke my heart. My tears rolled off my nose and onto his fur and I can’t lie, I really wanted to turn around at that stage and take him home. But then his breathing relaxed, and he was more peaceful than he’d been all week, and I knew I was making the right decision. When we left I kissed his little face and noticed that a bit of his tongue was sticking out. Well, you know how I love cat tongues. I had to laugh a little.
Anyway, I’m sad this morning but I feel better for him. To try to end with some levity, however, I’m going to leave with the following memorial. When Marley had his eye removed, Jer, Davey and I had a good ol’ time imitating him. And apparently Kat has too (Thanks Kat. This really really made me laugh yesterday and today when I needed it!). Thank you for your thoughts yesterday. We appreciate it.
Oh, these little animals we decide to take in and love. They become such good little friends. It’s so hard to see them go.
As far as pets go, Marley was a dick.
He was cock-of-the-walk about every aspect of his kitty life. If you were near 7 inches tall, Marley was the boss of you. If you didn’t know this, you would receive a bullet-fast paw/claw to the face. Whenever I would cat-sit for Ash in Boston, languidly spread out on the bean-bag chair, I would imagine Marley rousing himself from slumber and attacking Gus. Psychologically, I engaged a great degree of magical thinking, because inevitably Marley would rouse himself from slumber and attack Gus.
If you never had the pleasure of seeing Marley in all of his crazy, lashing out splendor, I would point you to the Friday the 13th movie franchise. Marley had a remarkably Jason Voorhees quality. He was boringly sluggish. He NEVER ran after his prey. He merely loped from room to room, waiting for Gus to tire himself out. And when that happened, he would unleash a hurricane of sadism. To expand the back story, he wasn’t a bully. He was a retired cop.
He was completely un-cat-like in his disposition. Now that cats no longer serve the sole function of vermin slayers (I’m looking at you, Gus), they evolved into people mirrors, a silent slate that we project personality onto. And, Marley was a Scorpio. There were deep dark unspoken forces aswirl in that dude. When Gus wants something you are assaulted with verbiage. He says “Mrrrrrraugh?!” Marley wouldn’t even deign to give you a “Mh,” even on day three of no cat food.
Also, Marley had very precise needs, and very rigid boundaries. He wanted to be pet, yet didn’t want to be touched.
To wit, Marley was the feline equivalent to male genitalia. Shameless, aggressive, occasionally oozy. I loved that cat, and I feel oh so castrated in his absence.
HA HA it’s so true. I loved watching Gus scramble and run himself ragged trying to get away from Marley. Marley would just pace from room to room patiently before giving Gus the smackdown. Aw man that was funny.
Ah–Ashbloem. I sit here at work teary eyed and red-nosed after reading your beautiful tribute and Jeremy’s metaphorical account of Marley’s life. After going through the same with my Sam and Sidney within only 10 months of one another, I certainly understand your loss. Giving him a second shot at life by adopting him and saying goodbye the way you did, was by far the best act of kindness and gift you could have given him. He was a lucky kitty!
He sounds like he was a great cat. It’s amazing how much we come to love our pets, isn’t it?
I’m so sorry. This post made me teary…
((hugs))
marley was my favorite cat tongue sticker outer ever. he inspired me to put butter on my cat’s nose just for the photo opp.
so sorry for your loss, ash.
Thanks everyone; I really appreciate it.
Oh 7Dots, I just don’t know how you did it twice in a year. My heart is just so tender, I think it would melt into my feet if I had to do it again.
Jenny, I knew you’d miss him and his tongue especially. I actually got one last one in that series from my last weekend with him. I was pretty pleased about that.
This is a very sad & beautiful post.
I’m sorry you lost Marley, but I’m glad you got to spend one last night with him. It’s good for animals to know they are loved. I am positive that they can tell.
my parents bought me a cat when i was 8-months old, and when she died at 16 years i was devastated. i’m still devastated, as a matter of fact. you’re right; there’s something very different about having a cat.
hugs from our family to yours.
Big hugs, Ash.
That was truly beautiful. Bless Marley, wherever you are!
Oh sweet Marley. Love to you and your tender heart Ashlee-
Marley was lucky to have you in his life.
Truly sorry for your loss.