Good Bye Rider - J.T. Marsh

For some odd reason I always refer back to this obscure cartoon quote. Its one of those weird quotes that just always staid with me. Perhaps what best explains it is in the Cartoon ExoSquad the main character pilots an e-frame that links into his.......Anyways you would have to have to have seen the cartoon to completely understand what I am talking about. Regardless, in one episodes Lt J.T. Marsh's e-frame is critically damaged and falls into a volcano. The thing is, the e-frame is just considered a machine, but it speaks to him as if it has some intelligence of its own. When J.T. bales out, it says "good bye rider J.T. Marsh."

We had to take The Grey Mulkin, to take the great cat nap of eternal sleep. He had become seriously ill and was experiencing several problems. His lungs had taken on fluid, and he was having trouble breathing. This made it difficult for him to eat which was causing him to rapidly loose weight. This was coupled with kidney trouble and a large mass that was pushing on his intestines inside his abdominal. In lamens terms he was all jacked up. If there was anything we could do for him, the best was to put him to sleep. I know your thinking there was more we could have done, and maybe there was but we chose the sleep. Jon had brought The Mulkin into our lives, and Jon thought it best that he make the decision to having him leave our lives. In the short time he spent with us he had lived a good life beyond what any alley cat could dream of. We had saved his life, and we took it all the same.

The Grey Mulkin or Mul-kan-a-cat came to us one very cold winter in 2001. I had yet to be introduced to him, I was still living down at the house of the mouse around the time of his first appearance. The Mulkin first made his approach to my older brother Jon. Its unclear what lead the Mulkanacat to our house, or even to our backyard, but Jon took mercy on him and began to feed him scraps of food. After about a week of baiting him he finally persuaded him to come out of the cold into our domain. This process too took a bit of negotiating until he felt comfortable enough to stay inside for prolonged periods of time. It was about this time that I came home from Florida just in time to experience the brutal Chicago winter.

"And so the Pickling Began"

When I arrived the cat had already been dubbed The Grey Mulkin by my little brother Andrew. It was a strong name worthy of a wizard and rightfully so. Andrew claimed he thought he had heard the name mentioned before in one of the Harry Potter books. The Mulkin was strong of heart at the time but as frail as they come. His body was almost emaciated and his head looked like if you had placed a lions head on a mouse's body.

Memories of putting my beloved Cerberus Chene to sleep still haunted my head and I yearned for a pet to once again love. My mother from the start was against getting attached to the mangy grey cat that was entering our home. From the start she complained about him and wanted us to catch him and take him to the pound. I on the other hand had other plans. I decided it was up to me to make him a worthy pet. And so the pickling began. At first he was scared of the slightest touch and was very timid of me. I slowly and painstakingly began to pick him up in my arms. He did not like this one bit and would scratch the hell out of my arms chest and stomach. I never really got mad, I remained patient with him. I knew he was scared and thats why he avoided being picked up, but I could still tell he wasn't totally opposed to it. This process went on for.....years but eventually he stopped clawing at me. I had pickled the beast inside him and he began to become the loving pet that I remember.

Its a shame, right when The Mulkin had gotten to a friendliness that I enjoyed in him, he had become sick. I will miss petting his dirty fur turning my fingertips black. I will miss sitting outside on warm summer nights starring out at the stars as he stares intently off into the distance, tweaking his ears at the slightest sounds. I will miss walking him around the neighbor hood as if I was his protector. I will miss coming home and seeing him sleeping on the crest of my parents couch. I will miss calling out KITTY to the neighborhood, and then seeing him jump the fence to come to the source of my voice. Most of all I will miss him and all his catty hi-jinks.

I know they say cats and dogs don't have souls or go to heaven, but the Mulkin has a special place reserved for him inside my soul, and I will carry him with me into eternity. God speed Mulkanikus Maximus. You were a brave alley cat and then a retired brawler gone house cat.