This is a short story of the death of my cat, which, unfortunately, I witnessed.
|With his long white fur, big blue eyes, and angelic personality, Levi could easily become anybody’s favorite cat. He seemed dimwitted, which was kind of cute as long as it didn’t get too far. For instance, if he caught a bug, he seemed to lack the knowledge to kill it like a normal cat. Instead, he would scare it to death by knocking it around the room and chasing it like a toy.
However, Levi’s lack of common sense actually endangered his life multiple times. He would do things that would seriously make you wonder why he didn’t die sooner. For example, one day as I walked by the laundry room to get to my parents’ bedroom, I heard a fearful meow. I opened to double doors and saw that my (rather forgetful) mom, who had stepped away momentarily to grab some more dirty clothes, had forgotten to close the washing machine as it was filling itself up with water. Poor Levi must have looked in and slipped. He was desperately thrashing around in the water, trying to escape, so I immediately got him out, dried him off with a towel, and brought him to my mother as I scolded her.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Levi also had a fascination in wheels. This unusual quality, probably due to his deafness, led him to just sit in the grass as the lawnmower would come by. In fact, my dad almost ran over him a few times. Plus, Levi saw a perfect napping spot behind the wheels of parked cars. We were eventually driven to make him an indoor cat.
Poor Levi, miserable as an indoor cat, tried desperately to get out. He would meow constantly, paw at the back door, and try running past anyone on their way out the door. He was always unsuccessful until the day our television had to be repaired.
The TV man came and fixed our TV. We thanked him for his work and we thought he had left. My mom was napping in her bedroom and my dad was sitting in his office, drinking a cup of tea and paying bills. I talked to my pet parrot for a minute, maybe handing her a peanut, before starting to head upstairs.
It was on my way up those stairs that the man rushed back inside in a panic. I came back down immediately and my dad and I asked what was going on. The man asked us if the cat outside was ours. I looked out the window and saw Levi as he lay on his side, twitching his paws a few times before they stopped forever.
My dad assured the man that it would be okay and that it was not his fault. The man, with the most sullen face imaginable, continued to apologize profusely for several minutes. My dad spoke to him and explained that the main worry was going to be my mom’s reaction. I went up and knocked on her bedroom door before summarizing what had happened.
The next scene was sad to watch. First, she got out of bed in a panic and put on her robe. Then she went downstairs and rushed outside, holding Levi’s body in her arms as she sobbed continuously. She seemed to cry for an hour, if not more. She told the TV man it would be okay and that she would be fine.
When the worker left, we put Levi’s body in a box and sealed it up. Since I was only about fourteen, I put on a makeshift funeral service with a sermon played on a CD and a prayer. We told each other why Levi had been important to us, and then we buried him in the woods outside.
Levi certainly was unique. Named after the blue jeans, he had the biggest, bluest eyes anyone had ever seen. He’ll always be remembered.