IN memoriam: Pitzou


He was an ordinary tomcat (what we call in French « a chat de goutièrre»). Unclipped, calm, full of dignity and (as I could hear some nights) a fearless and fierce fighter for his teritory. My wife raised him since he was a little cute thing, 8 or 9 years ago… I get to know him better  the last 6-7 months and I had a lot o simpathy and respect for him. We shared, from time to time, my rocking chair or the sofa and I liked to let my hand touch his fur, reading a book or listening to the music… He didn’t mind…

Well, almost every night of this summer, when darkness came, he asked for his freedom, his right to go after other (rare, very rare)  unclipped tomcats or wild shecats, still able to give you a litter of fury marvels… His life was simple, intense (here and there) and sincere. The way, maybe, we should live our lives…

Not long ago, one early morning, I had the shock of finding him on the side of the road… I had the chance to find him not long after one lousy- in a hurry- driver fit him… I could avoid him the indignity of being repeatedly squashed, like some of those horrible road kills… I had just enough time to give my wife Norica the bad news and to drag him aside… Oh, boy!

I suppose, not a surprinsing fate when you live not far away from a circulated road…

I certaily hope he had a long, nice, hot encouter that night (maybe it was the reason he was so dangerously dreamy when crossing the bloody road…) and that he could see the sun rising before his eyes become glassy…

Anyway, here it is, Pitzou himself, curled in his prefarate position…

Farewell, my fury friend! I hope you will come back, some day, reincarnate in some feline or another…

P.S. As always in life, Miki, the little tomcat of my son Lucian, took your place in our hearts (but not in our memory)…

P.S. 2  For the friends who wonder why I do not write more often… I have now 2 jobs (my old one, not certain yet, as a art teacher for nuns) and a new, interesting (and stressing) one as a Bell Mobility customer service agent… I must work a while to earn some  in order  to be able to start my own little business as a portrayer and caricaturiste… Wish me luck! (I really need it!)

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7 responses to “IN memoriam: Pitzou

  1. ovidiu stanomir

    “NOROC BUN” !

    (pe bune.)

  2. You can hang that cat piece over the fireplace for future cats to speculate on. Teaching nuns? You should take a ruler to their knuckles if they misbehave.

    • No future cats, my woman says… As for teaching nuns, it<s really fun (they are usually very old, naive, childlike and very rarely mean… I wish the Bell clients, to whom I answer the demands as a 2nd job, would be as gentle…) Good to hear from you !

  3. Just stopping by to say hello. I now work from home and have less time to blog than before, so do understand!

    Best regards,
    Madame Monet

    • Thanks for stoping by! No problem, I have almost the same problem (but not working from home, yet…) Hope all is well & wish you, and yours, even better…

  4. You are eloquent indeed. This is a lovely memorium. Somehow our bruised hearts heal and life goes on, but the scar tissue can sometimes catch us by surprise and tug painfully at our emotions until it once again breaks free and lets the pain go away.

    We have an aging orange tom cat named “Bubba” – an old version of the cutie on your shoulder – and I fear the day we lose him. He’s my husband’s boon companion and quite a character; a friend, an annoyance, a family member, and much loved.

    So here’s a salute to Pitzou – a cat for all seasons. You’ve written him a lovely legacy.

    Carol Senske
    FAA

    • Thank you very much Carol for your kind words. I hope Bubba will live a long time and that he go in sleep (Poor Pitzou would have probably prefered that too…). What can we do but to accept what is inevitable and out of our hands? (most people think this idea is an AA thing…as a history teacher I know it was the stoic roman Emperor Marc Aurelius who said it…). Thanks for you visit too…and best wishes to you and yours (Bubba included)! (the tiger on my shoulder was my son’s cat, Michael)

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