My eulogy
Eleven years ago, my dad saw a sign advertising free kittens. He took me, Hannah and Buddy down to check them out. It had been about a year since we moved to Michigan and my mom and I really wanted a cat.

They only had two or so cats left. We chose one, a nice little black kitty and took him home.

I held him on the car ride home. Hannah said that's what made him so mean, I hogged him all to myself. I named him McHenry. McHenry, Illinois was where we had lived for the longest amount of time, three years, and the place I loved the most.

He was mean. I think it was because he was born to be a barn cat and the house was his hunting grounds. You had to watch yourself in the hallway, if you walked past him anywhere in the house and on the stairs. He would leap at your shin or your ankles and take a nice bite out of you. You couldn't pet him for too long or he bit you.

And don't even think about picking him up.

He killed a mouse once and put it by my shoes. I loved him no matter what, every one else feared for their lives.

The vet said that he might calm down if we got another cat. They had a runt named Shelby so we took her home. He beat on her for a while but he'd still beat us up.

Once we couldn't find him and Mom thought he'd snuck out of the house. I looked all over the neighborhood but couldn't find him. I came home and Mom said he had been hiding in a basket.

Shelby's kidneys began to fail and we put her to sleep when I was in sixth grade. A little while later, we got the Maine Coons: Scully and Mr. Lunt. He was a little better but still mean.

We moved and Mom had to put gloves on to get him in the cat carrier.

A few years ago, he got out of the house somehow. We couldn't find him and this time he was really lost. We put food and water outside for him and Hannah spotted him one day. He came back and he was changed. Maybe it was overnight but he'd been changing for a while. We didn't have to watch our backs anymore (although reflexively we still did) and the hallways were safe again.

We could even pick him up for a second or two.

Everyone thought they could tame him. Nathaniel's friends would come over, see him, pet him and say, "I think he likes me" right before he'd strike. And they kept denying it. "No, I think he really like ME. Of everyone else, he likes me." Like they could fix him.

Over the past year, he began to forget that we fed him. I told Mom that it wasn't that he forgot, he couldn't see. My poor kitty was nearsighted. He stuck his paw in water instead of drinking it out of the bowl. He would beg at the dog gate even when we had just fed him.

I got back from France and learned that he had begun to fall over. You would pet him and all of a sudden he would become unsteady on his feet and fall on his side. It wasn't the cat thing where they throw themselves on the floor to be petted. He was falling. He would be lying down and as you began to pet him, he'd try to stand and fall over.

It was funny at first.

I moved out. A week or so ago, I called Hannah to chat and she told me that McHenry fell down the stairs and cried about it. She seemed upset that he cried about it. Mom said she tried to pick him up but he wouldn't let her. She was going to have him put to sleep that Wednesday but she felt bad about not telling us.

Mom told me yesterday that he stopped begging to be fed around the same time. She didn't know the last time he ate or drank.

Nathaniel said he threw up water.

Mom said she couldn't stand to see him without his alpha status. He lived for that.

So on Friday, Mom said she was going to put him to sleep this weekend. I was okay as long as I didn't think about it. I told Mom to call me before it happened. Saturday morning, I got a text message from Mom.

"Mickey is crossing over the river Styx at noon today. Should I bring him home for burial?"

I told her yes then called Nick and cried. I sat on the couch and stared at the clock. 11:00. 11:01. 11:02. 11:03. 11:04. 11:05. 11:06. 11:07. 11:08. The last time I saw him, Nick was petting him. I was in a hurry to leave. I wanted to see my kitty. I called Ben and asked him to give me a ride up to Rockford.

I paced. I couldn't sit still because then I would think about it.

I called Mom. Told her I was coming. She mentioned that she thought it would be right to bring him home. We hadn't done this with Shelby or any of the other cats. But we weren't old enough to care then.

I got to the house and found Mom outside. She was holding Mickey in a Queen Amidala towel. She said she took him outside for a walk around the neighborhood. She thought he should see outside before we left.

I held him for a long time. He kept meowing. He never meowed that much.

I never ever held him for that long.

I held him on the ride to the vet.

I held him at the vet. He kept meowing. He purred a little when Hannah pet him. Mom said maybe he should walk around a little for a while. I put him down and he walked to the corner and hid under a table.

Mom said she had never been able to go in with a pet when she had to put them to sleep. We decided we were going to take him home with us when it was all done.

Mom asked if we wanted to go in with him. I should've but couldn't. She asked if we wanted her to go in. I wanted her to but couldn't ask her to. She went in.

It took forever.

In the end, it was okay. I didn't cry afterward. He was all better. His pupils were dilated. He was okay.

Mom said they couldn't find a vein. He weighed 7 lbs. He tried to bite the vet. She said it was his last hurrah.

I held him on the car ride home. We buried him under a tree in the side yard. Hannah and I made a stone with his name on it.

And I was okay.

Until I got home.

It's off and on now. It was bad yesterday but it gets better.

I just miss him.

I held him on the car ride when we first got him and I held him during the car ride at the end.

I miss my kitty.

RIP McHenry. The best worst kitty ever.

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