Caliban hanging out on my in-laws’ back porch.
I couldn’t get a definitive answer from my mother-in-law on when or how Caliban died beyond being this Summer. Carolyn’s memory isn’t what it used to be I’m realizing. I just was told yesterday he passed away while I was searching for him during a family visit; to see the Qatar faction primarily.
Not having the chance to tell him goodbye and thanks for all the great memories was saddening yet I’m going to eulogize sweet Caliban here because he had a pretty rough life before I met him.
Well over ten years ago, we all sensed a feline presence in the front yard courtesy of my über-territorial Molly. Unlike other stray cats, this guy didn’t care to bug Molly by banging back on the window nor did he pay attention to her intimidating howling. He seemed pretty content to sunbathe on the grass during the day, then disappear at night. I tried to approach but he would bolt for the nearby storm drain.
His trust was quickly gained by leaving out food. Within a month he didn’t mind coming to the front door to eat while I pet him. Being a cat, our relationship rapidly moved to the “I’m waiting for grub” stage every morning when I opened the door to leave for work and/or him running to the house as my car pulled up. I really didn’t mind though. Molly would beg to differ.
Caliban received his name from The Uncanny X-Men comic book character who lived in the New York City sewers with the other Morlocks. It seemed fitting with his tendency to use the storm drain as his resting place. He also barely spoke too. Caliban’s voice was this really weak mew which boggled my mind given his size (over 14 pounds).
Plans to have him neutered were moved up one Saturday morning thanks to what I thought was his girlfriend joining him to eat brunch. I later learned that Akuma was male, already sterilized and just a mooch. Dr. Todd did a great job treating Caliban; the poor dude needed a couple rotten teeth pulled plus the several white/gray streaks of fur were the results of fight injuries. I had no idea black cats’ fur grows back white/gray over scars. Dr. Todd’s estimate put Caliban between two and four so he was very lucky to be alive given the short lifespan of feral animals.
My in-laws readily took Caliban in because he needed a place to recuperate from the surgery. A decade ago, their older cats Boris and Dolph were alive so Caliban’s easy-going demeanor made him fit right in. I’m grateful Carolyn and Tom did me this favor. For the rest of his days I always made sure to pet him during a visit.
Over the years Caliban grew comfortable with being picked up, stroked and cuddled. He never trusted anyone to rub his belly and Dr. Todd suspected he had a minor spine injury which explained his biting if you tried to pet him near the tail base. As he grew older, thinner and attained an odd funky smell, Caliban continued to recognize me. I remember he had a unique purr with gurgling to let you know he was content.
I will remain saddened over Caliban’s departure for some days yet I am relieved we all made 10 or more years of his 12-plus on Earth happier.