At 20 years of age, Goop, the little cat that spent her
first 10 years with me in Pennsylvania, has passed away at my sister’s place
there, where she spent her last 10 years.
She was always loved, and she knew it.
A lucky cat who was affectionate and a real clown.
Twenty years ago, my American wife at that time had found
little Goop and another kitten in an animal shelter in a rough area of East
Cleveland while she was studying at nearby Case Western Reserve. My wife called her a “little goofball”, and I
evolved the name “Goop” from that. Since
two kittens proved a bit much for her, I took Goop back to Pennsylvania where I
was living and teaching.
As Goop and I drove east back to PA, she stood on my lap
while I was driving. She put her
forepaws on the top of the steering wheel and looked out at the road
ahead. I held the wheel at its bottom
rim, so it looked like Goop was driving.
As cars passed us on the interstate, I got a lot of double-take looks
from the drivers.
Goop adapted quickly to the mobile home at Wilderness Park
and to the other cat I had inherited, “Mr. Cat” (who passed away in early 2000). Goop would crowd my school paperwork as I had
it spread across a big lapboard on my recliner.
She especially loved the big Full-Spectrum light-box that I would park
squarely in front of my chair to combat SAD symptoms in the dark evenings and
mornings of November and December. Reading
and grading student papers and planning lessons all had to be done by working
around the furry Goop-ball that had claimed front and center against my
chest.
Goop and a 24-hour Classical music station out of Buffalo
kept me sane in those lonely days.
After my father’s death I moved to the old stone farmhouse
in Sugar Grove for a few years. At
first, it took Goop a while to explore the huge house, but she soon settled
in. She was there to witness my marriage
to Tuk on her visit to the States – and the plan was for Tuk to retire from her
job in Thailand and return to Sugar Grove.
At the end of the 2004-2005 school year, I suddenly realized
that I couldn’t teach another term. I
was completely exhausted and depleted.
My FMS, plus the increasing bureaucratic burdens put upon teachers, ran
me into the ground. The FMS “brain fog”
was the worst part of it, dulling my mental capabilities and radically crippling
my effectiveness as a teacher. Also, Tuk’s
early retirement plans had hit snags, so we decided I would move to Thailand to
be with her there.
But what about Goop? I
thought I might have to take her to my sister’s home in upstate New York, where
she would be wonderfully cared for but where she would also be traumatized by
the radical change of place and people. I
even thought about bringing her to Thailand if possible.
But Goop really lucked out with the timing when my
brother-in-law lost his job in a major (but expected) down-sizing. They had one option: moving to the farmhouse in Sugar Grove. Goop was lucky because, to her, it was her
house and they were the new folks. Her
adjustment was minimal as they moved in gradually, and she even got along with
their cats. I could leave Goop with them
when I moved to Thailand and know that she would be loved and cared for.
It worked out very well for her, and she lived a long
life.
Rest in Peace, little Goop.
-Zenwind.
.
