Goodbye to Manx.. the first thoughts

While we were having a wonderful afternoon on Friday, our beloved cat Manx was taking her last breaths.

She was fine Friday morning when our neighbors checked on her, but was gone by the evening.

We were unable to return until Saturday afternoon, so we had to ask our neighbors (Mom and three girls — ages 12 and 9-year old twins) to place Manx’s stiff body in plastic bags and put her in our freezer. It’s Saturday night, we’re home, and she’s still there.

After contacting the vet and discovering that it’s a $70 fee for communal cremation ($155 if you want the remains) we decided that we really wanted to bury her here.

Manx, as many of you reading this know, was an incredibly special cat. Unbelievably precious, completely loving and trusting. Best guesses had her at 16 years old (with Paul for 14 of those years). Her disability (cerebellar hypoplasia) was mild but marked, she was klutzy and cute, spunky and sweet. No one was immune to Manx-love, she was everyone’s favorite girl.

We were very unsure of how to approach all of this with Will. He couldn’t find her upon returning home but quickly got distracted to other things. When the household calmed down towards the end of the night, he remembered her again, saying that he wanted to see her. We started to explain that she was gone, but of course the idea didn’t stick. Right now, Will believes Manx is “hiding.”

Scout is okay. For the past few weeks, he has been Manx’s caretaker. They’ve been sharing food and water lately — and Scout has actually allowed Manx to eat/drink to her fill as she wishes, even if it means that she goes first. (If you know Scout, you know that this is definitely NOT normal behavior.) We’ve seen him grooming her, cuddling up with her, and just generally being sweet.

I’ll do better to memorialize our sweet girl a little later…