My heart is broken

It was Friday around 6pm, and Maya was jumping on Eddie; Eddie started hissing, and I told him, “be nice to your sister!” He looked at me and complained by meowing; he kept looking at me; I could barely see his eyes just above the coffee table, and I said, “do you want to go outside?” He ran to the door. I let him and Dusty out; as usual, Dusty scratched on the door a few minutes later. It was still light out, and my fiancé and I  decided to go to dinner at a nearby Pho place we hadn’t tried yet. On our way out and while getting in the car, I looked at my iPhone and saw some messages from my brother; he had finally sent his measurements for his tux. I asked my fiancé if we could go to Men’s Wearhouse after dinner. We did, and I had a craving for froyo, so we also stopped for some on the way home. We had been hanging out in the living room, and around 10pm, I looked over to the patio door (where Eddie had shown up when he’d want to be let in), and remembered I’d let Eddie out earlier. My memory is still really bad these days, and it didn’t help that Eddie had lost his collar with his GPS tracker the week before.  We had decided, after searching for the GPS tracker (it kept saying it couldn’t be located) near the house, that since he always stuck around the same area, maybe we didn’t need to get him a replacement. The GPS tracker service always texted me when he was out of the home zone and when he got close to the house. Without it, it was so easy for me to forget that he was outside. That night, I asked my fiancé if we had let him in, and he said that he didn’t know he’d been let out.

I started looking for him inside the house, my fiancé went straight to my office, and he complained that he had stepped on something wet. We weren’t sure what it was at first, there was a mini yellow puddle on the floor, too small to be urine, but it looked like Dusty’s medication which he may have thrown up after we had given it to him moments earlier. I went back to the kitchen to grab wipes, and as I reached under the sink, I saw my phone was lit up. There was a missed call and a voicemail. As I picked up my phone to see who had called, my fiancé said that my computer phone was ringing. I was thinking it was FaceTime, but when I walked over, it was my Windows work machine; I had left my VoIP phone on. I thought it was odd, but I figured I should check the voicemail. It was odd to see a 512 number calling at 10pm.

The lady on the voicemail said that they were calling from an emergency animal hospital and asked me to call as soon as possible, so I did.  The lady on the phone told me that they thought they had Edwin; “a gentleman  brought him in” and she paused, immediately I thought that maybe it was because he didn’t have his collar on, and I thought that it must’ve been really hard to get him in there. He fought hard whenever anyone picked him up, and I thought about putting a carrier in my car to bring him home. She continued and said that he had been attacked by dogs, and that he hadn’t made it. I was in disbelief, and my fiancé asked me what happened, and I couldn’t say anything; I passed him the phone. I broke down, and I started crying. After he had hung up,  I texted my sister who then called me. After I got off the phone with her, we had a decision to make about his body. I didn’t know what to do. I was in shock. After thinking of our options, I decided to have him cremated and get his ashes back. My fiancé went to the animal hospital to fill out paperwork. I couldn’t bring myself to go or to see him.

In March 2010, my cousin’s cat had a litter of kittens, and I fell in love with Eddie when he was tiny. I wasn’t in the market for a second cat. I was crazy about Dusty, but he was still sad after our move from Boston and his separation from my roommate’s cat. I thought he needed a buddy to get him out of his funk, so I agreed to take the orange kitten with the blue eyes.


Before I took him home

Dusty was scared of him when I brought him home, but eventually, he began to tolerate him, and eventually he would show him he shouldn’t be messed with. Before I got Eddie,  I had told my mom and I wasn’t sure if I could love another cat like I loved Dusty, but Eddie was just adorable that it made him so easy to love.


Eddie is a Mac

When he was younger, he was  always eating and trying to find food. He loved to eat just about anything and he’d even steal butter from the kitchen. If I left the fridge door open for a minute, he’d be in there trying to see if there was any fish or chicken.

Jackpot: a plate with chicken!

Jackpot: a plate with chicken!


From the beginning, Eddie wasn’t scared of anything; he thought he ruled the place. I would call him the Lion King. He wasn’t afraid of heights (he jumped down from a 3rd floor apartment balcony), and chased a bee even after the bee stung him. He wasn’t scared of dogs and would often jump into our old neighbour’s backyard and they had 2 dogs.


I’m sure this is what he saw

However, he had a soft spot for girl kittens. That was something we took into consideration when we got Maya.. we wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to bully her. This is him with my cousin’s kitten three years ago.


Yup.. he was nursing a kitten who had lost her mom too soon

Yup.. he was trying to nurse a kitten who had lost her mom too soon

I loved his attitude; he complained when I sneezed and when my fiancé would tell him what to do. He thought he was the alpha male of the house, and he didn’t like it when he was shown otherwise. He didn’t like to be picked up, but he would let me give him quick hugs so long as his feet were planted on the ground. He liked for us to scratch his neck, and sometimes if I was lucky, he’d let me pet him for a bit.

He wasn't a big fan of the camera

He wasn’t a big fan of the camera

He was smart and was always exploring. He showed Dusty how to be a real cat; I’m not saying Dusty isn’t a real cat, but Eddie showed him how to run like a cheetah as opposed to Dusty’s version of running which was more like walking quickly, and that when “hunting,” you would put your “kill” (toys) in your mouth to carry them. He kept getting out of the backyard, so I had to get him a GPS tracker so I could see where he was. “Hunting” is still not Dusty’s strong suit; it’s funny to see him stuffing the toys in his mouth with his paws.

He didn't understand why I refused to let him in with a dead bird (even if he hadn't killed the bird himself)

He didn’t understand why I refused to let him in with a dead bird (even if he hadn’t killed the bird himself)

Whenever we’d have people over, Eddie would be all confident and he would let my friend’s dogs know that it was his house by having staring contests with them. Dusty would be hiding, and Eddie would be sitting in the middle of the living room despite all the “strangers.”

He was smart and figured out how to open the doors in our old house. The door knobs were actually handles, and he was tall enough to reach them. It was just a matter of time before he started opening the closet door and trying to open our bedroom door. After he learned, there was no point in closing the door anymore because he didn’t understand if a door was locked, he just kept jiggling it.

He would keep me company when I was working from home and would sometimes share his spot with his sister.  I recently moved their cat tower to my office since they spent a lot of time there. No matter how annoyed he was that Dusty or Maya was on the top level of the tower, he would never fight them for the spot.

Being a good big brother

Being a good big brother

I always thought that Dusty would be the first one to go. He’s older, was the runt of the litter, and he’s had a lot of issues (one of these days I’ll post about his puffy paw pads– that’s what he’s currently taking medication for), and he’s a scaredy cat; always stressed out… Eddie was always so tough I called him a man cat. I’m still in disbelief that he’s no longer with us.

There are so many unknowns: I don’t know exactly what happened to him, who took him into the animal hospital… I can’t help but wonder if he jumped into someone’s backyard with dogs or if he was attacked by a coyotes.  I don’t think that’s going to make me feel any better. I’m so thankful that the man took him in (even if it were his dogs who attacked him) so I wouldn’t be worried that night , and then looking for him on Saturday morning. I’m afraid that I would’ve gone a while without knowing where he was, or worse yet, finding his body with the wounds.

Each day has been getting better, but I know it will take a long time for my heart to heal…

mr fancy

We miss you so much, buddy. I hope you get lots of catnip, chicken, and tilapia up in kitty heaven. Love you.


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