A few weeks ago, Macavity started to eat way less - he didn't get to be 17lbs being a picky eater, so we knew something was very wrong. We took him to the vet and discovered that he had a tumor in his lungs.
Yesterday, he was obiviously in a lot of pain and going downhill fast. We tempted him with real tuna, let him roam the yard for an hour, and then made the tough decision to let him go.
We took him in to the clinic around 9pm. They were very nice, and gave us all the time we wanted to say goodbye. He had to be sedated (he hates the vet office), but then they gave him the injection as we petted him and told him we loved him, and he slipped away peacefully.
We got Macavity from the Salem Humane Society 4 days after we got back from our honeymoon ten years ago. He was four months old at the time. He was so small back then but grew and grew and grew. The first thing most people said upon entering our house was "My God, that's a big cat."
He was the most laid back cat I've ever seen. He was so good with Anya - letting her poke and pull and learn how to be gentle with an animal.
He was an awesome cat. In his honor, here's the text of the poem he was named after.
Macavity: The Mystery Cat
Macavity's a Mystery Cat: he's called the Hidden Paw -
For he's the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime - Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air -
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!
Mcavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square -
But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!
He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair -
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Macavity's not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty's gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair -
But it's useless to investigate - Mcavity's not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
`It must have been Macavity!' - but he's a mile away.
You'll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long-division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spaer:
At whatever time the deed took place - MACAVITY WASN'T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
- T.S. Eliot, from "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats"
1 hour ago
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