Adieu to the Lion
07.6.2013
He is old and tired. His right leg drags behind him. His bony skeleton shows pink through the white fur. It is hard for him to jump on the bed or onto a chair beside us.
In May and June, I traveled for a month in the USA, and coming home, wept on seeing our little lion so weak, so sick. You can see it in his eyes, his fur, his slow movement. He has a tumor, inoperable because of his age, and we grind six medications a day into his food. He is 19.
Street art by Miss-Tic (c) 2013
Richard and I lie on the living room floor, and sing to him. We bring his small statue of Bastet out of her basket, and she blesses him. Marley’s voice is a peep now instead of a roar.
Macho cat, King of the Block, calm, afraid of nothing, no one, resourceful (he adopted us after interviewing everyone on the block), confident, outspoken. He was Richard’s muse and mine, he gave us equal time. He was the familiar of our writing group for six or seven years.
He was seriously pissed at us twice, and both involved moves. Once when we moved from Venice, California a few miles to Playa del Rey. There were so many feral cats in the neighborhood, and he came home beaten up and bitten (and turned into a Cone-head for a few months) that we had to keep him indoors after his years of roaming Venice. (How would you feel? Exactly.) But he did have a sunny inner courtyard all his own in the center of our Spanish-style house.
And then on moving to Paris, because he was ONE pound over the weight limit and so could not ride with us upfront, he was banished into cargo limbo for the plane trip. He hissed at us like a cobra when we picked him up in the fret section of Charles de Gaulle airport. Fret? We did. And later learned it meant freight. He wouldn’t look at us the whole taxi ride into town.
And then he became a Parisian chat. He learned to modulate his voice, not to be yelling all the time like an American. To trim down. (A friend, Frederic Tuten, tells us that when he lived in Paris, someone told him the only serious crime here is being fat).
Marley learned to be a flâneur. He disguised himself as a fur scarf, and strolled around Paris on Richard’s shoulders, as cool and leisurely as any Parisian cat.
Street art (c) 2013 by C215
In all essential ways, though, he did not change on moving to Paris. He still loved being as close to us as he could get. Either one of us would do, but both of us? Purr-fect.
He was still psychic. When friends Mort and Jeannette were last here, visiting from their houseboat, he sensed Jeannette’s grief at losing their sailor chat, Miranda. In a room full of a dozen people, he stayed close to her, wove around her ankles, comforting her, and who knows, maybe even speaking to Miranda’s spirit.
Street art (c) 2013 by Fred Le Chevalier
He approved of physical vigor. One morning just a few weeks ago while waiting for my tea water to simmer, I was inventing Hindu ballet moves. Marley nudged my calf and purred. This is more like it, he said. All that sitting around putting marks on paper. Stretch those limbs! Let’s dance!
Today I found him splayed like a frog on the tile near his litter box. I picked him up and placed him on his throne, a big pillow on the floor near the open window he used to jump out of to sun himself on the fifth-floor ledge.
I called to see how late our vet would be there on a Saturday. Till 3:30. I showered. Tried to reach Richard, who was out photographing a parade.
Marley was having trouble breathing. I kept checking as I dressed. He was panting. I lay beside him, talked to him. Tried to give him water. He couldn’t drink. I ran back to the bedroom to grab my purse. Checked again.
Marley was still.
Deeper than words, silence. And tears.
Marley, death, family in Marley the Cat
Reader Comments (60)
Dear dear Frances,
Les chats do seem to embody immortality! Is that why they are said to have nine lives? We are grateful, Marley is grateful for your tears. We keep hearing him, seeing him around every corner. Thank you for your loving words. Cherish those lucky chats who live with you.
Love you,
Kaaren & Richard
Dear Kris,
Thank you for your empathy.
Love to you, and hugs to Jim and Lee,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Ann,
Thank you so much. He gave us so much love and inspiration, we couldn't help but love him.
Love to you and family,
Kaaren and Richard
Thank you, Bruce. We hope he is already dancing there. And that Bastet welcomes him with all her dark charm.
We don't say Au revoir. Just A bientot.
Much love,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Sufi Buddha Daniel Abdal-Hayy,
Good Lord, this is a mysterious poem. (And is so interwoven with our photos and text--lion and cat--that I was surprised to see that you wrote it in 2003.)
"They also curl up in a lap from time to time
the way a wind curls up inside a tempest
or a curve curls up inside a wave until it
breaks
The lap of a Self greater than themselves
An absence Who is a Greater Presence than any known"
Such a grand image. Close to our feeling: the constant toggling back and forth between absence and presence, with Marley.
"and who is docile in between worlds and
fierce in either one once he’s fully entered them"
That's uncanny, the mysterious sense we've had about his spirit in the last few days.
We love your story about Raven and Coffee. And Lufti. Heart-solace and deep companion, yes. Vowing never to have another cat, yes... but....
Gratitude and big hugs to you and Malika,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Tristine,
Thank you for knowing this: he will be remembered and missed.
Love,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Lisa,
Thank you.
We are hugging each other a lot.
And we send hugs back to you,
Kaaren & Richard
Carol (C),
He HAS had a great life. Yes, so tender. How moving they are. Take care of your kit cat. And thank you.
Much love,
Kaaren and Richard
Chere Carol,
Thank you so much. Marley deserved a tribute. Oh boy, does he have tales to tell. We're listening...
Merci bien,
Kaaren and Richard
Elena,
Spoken like a poet. He was a deep muse. And love was immediate between us.
Hugs,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear brother Jonny (you're both my brother AND Richard's now),
Don't make me start crying all over again.
Rogue: a perfect name for a dog of yours.
Tommy: I wish I'd met him, but feel as though I have through your descriptions.
Dad: You have described him eloquently. And yet, I'm struck by our differing feelings that last night. Was it a cold silence in the room? Or was it a life fulfilled? He was certainly surrounded by love. And he had achieved his dreams. He lived out the full arc of success, but then, after dementia, the experience of what it is to be powerless. Maybe that's a fuller life than one that is only successful, or only a flop. But I have a similar sense of his spirit being present in our lives every day, and continuing almost seven years later.
You are a lot like Sam.
Buckets of love,
Kaaren and Richard
Dearest Dawna,
You were one of Marley's favorite friends. He knew that you loved him.
Wasn't it odd the way he insisted on lapping water straight from the tap? (Or do all cats do this.) And it's so strange to come home now and not hear that warm meow, or his padding across the creaky old floor.
We love your image of Marley's spirit streaking off in the direction of Leo. Maybe that's where all regal cat spirits build their Chat O's, as Joanne calls them. Sort of a heavenly version of the chateaux of the kings of France in the Loire Valley and beyond.
That nickname you gave him, Floofypants, is that really dignified enough for him? I'm sure he's laughing about it now.
Sending you big hugs,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Joan,
We know only a few people who have as deep a connection with animales as you do. Marley knew that. He didn't just sleep with anyone, ya know? Thank you for loving him and seeing him.
It's strange the way missing him comes in waves, soft ones and hard. He was our love bunny. I will tell you a story about rabbits and Marley, but not tonight. Thank you for being there when we asked you for your insight into certain changes in his ways.
Much love,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Carville,
What a delight to hear from you. Thank you so much. Lucky you to be living with three animales.
Yes, cats are everywhere in Paris, in street art, statues, draped above doors, and Richard captures them all. I wish we saw more live ones. Sounds like it's time to go to Istanbul. The cats alone would guarantee we'd love it.
We're grateful to Nina for sending our link to you. And thankful to you for your kind words.
XO,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear K & R,
Me: Ow! (I'm in pain.)
So sad to read this post. It brought me to tears but also made me smile. You (Kaaren) wanted Marley to hold on to life until you returned and he did that. What a loving, sensitive, considerate, strong & generous soul he was!
We too have lost a few cats along the way but our all-time favorite was Stuart who would drape himself over Fred's shoulders as F was dictating his patient encounters. One time he got lost in our new AZ desert/home and we wept when a neighbor called a week later to tell us she might have our cat. Isn't it so amazing how rich these creatures make us feel?
Gentle loving hugs as you learn to live without the purr in your perfect Parisian life! (and kudos to R for his brilliant photos!)
I am sooo sorry to read this post and I grieve with you ! It is not easy to lose a pet- they are family !! I never knew Marley but he will be missed !! Lots of love to you both
Betsy ( Storey)
Dear Leonine Suki,
Yes, Marley was all that. (He says, Merci.)
We loved this image of Stuart on Fred's shoulder, giving him a helping paw.
These creatures we love like family never leave us, do they. Marley is still present here, though his litter box and food dish are gone.
Richard thanks you. Marley thanks you, especially for your tears. He's probably running through the desert right now with Stuart.
Much love,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Betsy,
Thank you so much for your heart-felt message. Marley thanks you, too. Yes, he will be missed. I wonder if he knew how many friends he had. Or do cats know everything?
Much love,
Kaaren and Richard
Dear Kaaren and Richard,
I can't believe I missed this post!?! So odd that it showed up out of nowhere on my iPhone email just now and I finally read it! Maybe you won't see this because it is so late, but my thoughts are so much on you right now and the double whammy grief you must be feeling that I had to send it anyway!
I'm so VERY sorry to hear about Marley, your baby - such a wonderful, amazing cat that you have written about often. As you know I have an orange tabby too who is aging, 16 years now, and just diagnosed with kidney disease, so I am dreading the day of his demise. Please know that I care, and regret that I missed letting you know in a timely way.
My love to you both.
Carol, thank you.
Yes, it has been a time for grieving. Marley, then Jane. We've put Paris Play on hiatus until we can regain equilibrium.
Much love back,
Kaaren and Richard