With sad heart I report that we laid our sweet cat Monch to rest on Thursday afternoon. Our last effort with steroids didn’t help matters and he was really ill in his last few days. So unfortunately we were compelled to put him down and expedite his relief. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer he would have hung on. It was a very sad experience, but I am glad that I was able to be right with him in his final moments so I could give him kisses and let him know how much he meant to us.
There is a big emptiness in the house now, one that I had honestly underestimated. I thought I was somewhat prepared and logically knew it was his time after almost seventeen great years together. I thought my busy toddler would preoccupy me from missing him so much, but that hasn’t been the case. I know in time I will be less sad. I couldn’t have asked any more from him and feel lucky to have had his sweet little soul in my life for so long. It couldn’t last forever, it just doesn’t work that way.
He really was a great cat. I wanted a tuxedo male especially because they are known for their affectionate, pleasant personalities and he lived up to that one hundred percent. He had been abandoned under a house with his brother and I rescued him along with an ex-boyfriend who had a cat that was not a fan of cuddles. We thought a buddy would do her some good and we were right. I knew we struck gold when we adopted him, he was exactly what I wanted. All these years and a long story later my Sister has the other cat (Turkey). Since splitting with that boyfriend Monch moved with me six more times. He was my one constant and me his. He had many names over the years, his original name was Vinnie, we renamed him Louis, which I kept as his formal/vet visit name all along. However, he was called Little Bub, Bubby and Monchichi in his first few years. Monchichi was eventually shortened to Monch, which eventually stuck. John called him Handsome. People always commented what a good-looking cat he was, in his fancy tuxedo.
He was always a total snuggler and kept me company, usually sleeping at the foot of the bed. When I was pregnant he was especially glued to me and would sit in my lap and purr louder than ever. Call me a nut, but I felt like he was communicating with Stella in utero. I am sorry that Stella did not get more time with him, especially beyond her toddler phase which wasn’t his favorite, though he was mostly sweet and tolerant of her tight hugs and exuberant petting. Most nights he would show up at dinner time and she loved to throw food down to him from her highchair. We tried to discourage it, but they had an understanding.
We are getting his ashes next week and plan to bury them in a giant pot with a tree for a memorial on our patio. We hope one day to bring another animal into our lives but will probably wait till Stella is a few years older. On the one hand I can’t imagine replacing him at any point. I think he will always be my favorite pet of them all. But on the other hand, having grown up always having animals around it just seems strange to not have any. I want Stella to have that experience too. I think pet owners are better people for it and have happier homes.
Goodbye sweet guy. I will dearly miss finding you sunning yourself or following me down the stairs for your morning meal. I will miss your little sleeping body at my ankles every night. Most of all I will miss your little angelic face and big yellow-green eyes.
Last photo of him