It is with a pulverized heart that I share the sad news that we have lost an integral member of the Kindertrauma Family. Our beloved cat Figgy has passed away. She was a proud feline who was also a cherished daughter, a loyal sister, a best friend, an empathetic caretaker, a muse, a role model, a magical familiar and my most trusted ally against the darkness of this world. I have never met a cat like Figgy before and I never will again. I won’t linger on her illness as it was such a tiny fraction of her spirited life but I need to say that she was an incredibly brave, noble and trusting spirit throughout her most challenging hours. I hope when it is my time to go that I can do my best to face things as valiantly as she.
One of the best the finest days of my life was when Figgy and her two sisters Rory and Kevin decided to strut into our South Philly backyard. Who would have guessed it would be such a privilege to have three kittens using our garden as a litter box? We built the girls a safe abode where they could sleep dry and warm and made sure they were (very) well fed. Eventually, we realized we would have to find them homes. Originally we only meant to keep gregarious Kevin but once we got to know Rory and Figgy, they had to become part of our family too. Figgy (not unlike myself) was inherently suspicious of humans when we first brought her inside. She was a Goth loner dressed in black who hid behind anything she could and hissed at the mere sight of us. Her initial rejection inspired me to try all the harder and I made it my mission that I would turn this feral malcontent around. And turn her around I did. She became the most affectionate cat you could possibly imagine and we became inseparable. I’ll never forget watching HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON with her and thinking it was our story on the TV screen. I’m not proud of much that I’ve accomplished in life but I am proud that I was able to steer Figgy’s disposition away from apprehension and fear. The cat she became after she was properly adored held one of the greatest souls I have ever known, human or otherwise.
Let me tell you about this beautiful cat. She cared for her sisters and with the diligent concern of a well-trained nurse. If one of them had a hairball or any such ailment, she’d come running to their aid in an instant and hover until she knew they were OK. She was incredibly generous. She never fought over food and she’d constantly bring toy mice up to my room. I’d often find them in my bed or shoes. She was so clever. She would come running whenever I asked her if she wanted to take a nap and she’d speed by me on the stairs and make it to bed before me. For many years our cats hid in the basement whenever we had company but over the last few, Figgy became more and more friendly and outgoing. Just this past Christmas when we had a party she came out and lounged around on our bar like she was Michelle Pfeiffer in THE FABULOUS BAKER BOYS. Boy, did she know how to enter a
I’m going to miss her so much. I feel irrationally guilty because right before she fell ill I experienced this miraculous moment with her. She was sleeping at my side and I felt such peace and love and it was like the whole room was glowing and time stopped. I foolishly wished in my head we could be together forever. Did this perfect instance attract the tragedy? I worry that experiencing such profound contentment was the equivalent of banging on a drum in A QUIET PLACE and some ugly force was alerted and came gunning for us. Maybe that’s the grief talking and my brain is just desperately looking for a reason when there isn’t any. In any case, I can’t allow myself to turn a happy memory into a sad one. The larger truth is that she was cherished every single day full-time and non-stop. I’ll never have to wonder if she ever felt unloved or abandoned and that means a lot to me. On our last day I wrapped her in a red blanket and told her she was my Queen and no truer words were ever said. She’ll always be royalty to me.
Thoughts of heaven and reincarnation have not been helpful to me lately. Instead, I’m deriving comfort from a horror movie, which should shock