Farewell, Pearl

Yesterday was a sad day at the homestead as we had to put our cat, Pearl, to sleep. We had discovered a tumor around her shoulder blade about a month ago, and it became clear the other night that it was becoming uncomfortable and affecting her behavior.

This photo was taken this past December as she was supervising the boys decorating the tree. It is emblematic of how far she had come in terms of adjusting to life as a timid cat among a houseful of boys -- and how much she loved my chair!

Brandy had rescued her and her brothers and sisters from a feral litter before we met. She and her roommate had found homes for most, except for Pippen and Pearl, the two sisters who stuck around. When Pearl moved with Brandy to Mashpee after Brandy and I had first met, Pearl hid for three days behind the water heater in Brandy's new apartment.

I've joked in the past that the dowry for Brandy's and my marriage was comprised of Pearl and Sammie, Brandy's other cat who was on the scene before Pearl. I'd always been a dog person, but Sammie and Pearl thankfully seemed to have approved of Brandy's choice of me. Had they not, Brandy and I might have had a much more uphill climb at the beginning of our relationship. Sure, I was allergic to them, but that was nothing a little Zyrtec couldn't cure. The things we do for love....

Pearl was a unique kitty. She had a little bit of dog in her, especially when she would drool when you pet her for more than a minute. Her nickname became Pearly-Bum, in large part due to the fact that when you were petting her she would eventually arch her back and make you scratch her bum -- also just like a dog.

When Sammie went missing five years ago, it was incredibly sad, but we had also thought it had been for the best -- and even may have been elective on Sammie's part.

Pearl really came into her own once she became the only cat in the house. She was much less timid around the boys' thumping feet as the years went by, and within the last year would great each with a meow and a "come-hither-and-pet-me" dance as they came downstairs each morning. It was Benjamin's chore to feed Pearl daily, and Mason often took it upon himself to spend a little time with her, whether it was playing with a string or a ball -- or simply petting her. And Sam's ritual was to call her over to him each night during prayers, when he would pet her until everyone was done talking about the best parts of their day. It was very likely one of Sam's unspoken favorite parts of his day.

So yesterday clearly had an impact on all of us, but most of all on Brandy, who took Pearl to the vet and said goodbye face-to-face during her final moments. Sam handled the bad news in his usual stoic fashion. Mason, who still mourns Sammie's disappearance, cried for a bit last night and I am sure we'll see the emotional after-effects for a while.

Most heart-breaking for me, though, was Benjamin's reaction. As Brandy was driving away with Pearl, he asked me, "Pearl is coming back, right?" When I tried to explain that wasn't likely, he said, "But the doctor has a car. He can bring her home." When Brandy got home, he asked her if she brought Pearl home. It's all I can do to stop from crying now as I recall it.

He spent the rest of the day periodically asking Brandy not to cry. When Brandy and Mason were crying at the same time last night, Brandy later told me that Benjamin said, "Great. Now you're both crying."

So while he understands now that Pearl is not coming home, his primary mission was to make everyone smile and laugh again. There's something to be appreciated in his naivete.

The boys have been asking for a dog for some time, but Brandy and I had insisted to the boys that we would not do so while Pearl was still with us. Now a dog is surely in our future, but for now we are savoring the memory of Pearl.

The house definitely seems a lot more empty without her.