True Love: Inter-Species Soulmates

When my best friend Arty died on Aug. 24, 2020 a part of me died with him.  Very seldom in life are you lucky enough to find a soulmate, Arty was mine. Some might deem me foolish, when I say Arty was not a person, but a cat. He was a beautiful (inside and outside) Russian Blue.   A person’s love for you might be conditional: Their friendship and loyalty might be suspect.    But the love from a four legged friend is unconditional: Their friendship and loyalty are real and knows no bounds.

Marty was a rescue, who rescued me. What a coincidence, Marty was also the name of my loving, caring father who died a few years earlier. I changed the cat’s name to Arty. When I first got Arty (about 4 ? years ago) it was love at first sight. I brought him up to my room and he disappeared, I was worried. Calling friends who had cats, they said he could be gone for days. Twenty minutes later, he walked over to me, rubbed against my leg, and gave me a kiss (a head butt).     That night, when I went to bed, he jumped up, curled next to me, and put his arm on my chest.  Just before he saw I was about to go to sleep, he walked over to my head, gave me 4 or 5 head butts and jumped off the bed. No one could believe that happened just a few hours after we met. It’s as if he knew me from before. In the morning he didn’t wake me, but watched till I was up, jumped on my bed, and kissed me good morning. This was a daily routine he followed for the rest of his life. I would sometimes give him a gentile head butt. We were soulmates. 

No animal or person has ever been more in tune with me than Arty was. If I was the least bit sad, he would run over and comfort me. I think he understood every word I said. If I told him I was going to write or study, he just sat by me without saying a word. When I would leave for a few hours and come back he would greet me as lovingly (or more so) than any dog. Like a watch dog when a repair person came to my house Arty would jump on my bed or on a chair and stare at them.  Arty always went in the litter box, but after he saw my dog urinate on a wee wee pad, he did the same.  He never made on the floor or scratched any furniture.  Arty had kidney failure, and every morning for the last six months I was giving him fluid subcutaneously. He always let me do it, without moving. When I finished, he would walk over to me and thank me by giving me a kiss. He died while I was giving him the fluid. 

You may have heard some people say “Cats are not like dogs. Cats only care about themselves, not about you.” Most likely those people never had a cat. I can give hundreds of examples showing how Arty was the opposite. The last few days of his life when I left him his food he didn’t eat much. But when I went over to him and said “Arty, please eat.” He would look me in the eyes and start eating (for me). Weeks before Arty died, I took him to the Veterinarian. The Vet wanted to euthanize Arty, and didn’t know how I was keeping him alive. I know he was staying alive for my sake. Arty was one in a billion. All my four legged friends were very loving, and when they died it hit me very hard. Arty was the most loving. I had the strongest bond with him, and his death hit me the hardest. Arty was also the most human. Much more human than the idiots whose pictures you sometimes see on LinkedIn posing with a big smile on their face next to a big cat or another of God’s creatures they killed for “sport”. Arty was also more human than his second owner.  From the toys and other things that came with Arty (like a custom made piece of furniture for his liter box) I knew his first owner, an elderly woman loved him very much. When she went into a Nursing Home (which she thought would just be temporary) she gave Arty to a neighbor to take care of.  When the neighbor found out the woman was going to be permanently admitted, the first thing he done was call up a number of shelters to take the cat. Fortunately for me, he didn’t tell them it was a Russian Blue, and no shelter wanted him. Next he took Arty to five different Veterinarians to be euthanized. Perhaps because they knew he was a Russian Blue, or perhaps because he was relatively young and healthy, they all refused. I like to think everything happens for a reason, and Arty wasn’t euthanized because we were supposed to be together. Next, of all the Animal Rescue Groups he called the one where my friend Susan volunteers and told her, since no shelter wants Arty and no Vet wants to euthanize him, he is just going to let him out into the street. Without mentioning Arty was a special breed my friend called me and asked if I would take a cat for a week or two till she might be able to find him a home. The year before Susan called me if I could foster a sick dog  (she didn’t mention he was a collie) that was going to be euthanized. That was Misty, also a great friend who I previously wrote about.

Some people say a cat is no good.  In the same way you should not judge a person by race, religion or creed: You should not judge an animal by species or breed.  Do not believe in stereotypes or what you may have heard, but judge the individual. You might be pleasantly surprised.   Especially now, with the Covid-19 virus we should all realize how small the world is and how ephemeral life is.  We should love one and other and all of God’s Creatures.