He was the eldest of
our feline “kids.” Like a "bachelor uncle,"
he tried to ignore the younger “white things,” Enchante and Galileo,
but secretly enjoyed their company.
His domain (aside from
his house) was the English herb garden, patio,
and back yard. We always loved to look out and see him lounging in the sun,
sitting on the back porch or proudly surveying his territory either from his
perch
on the back fence or from atop a wood shed.
In the 15 years since
Mr. Pilgrim made the decision to move in with us,
he never ceased to be a charming, handsome fellow. He was always grateful
for the food we served him – at first it was “Science Diet”
and over time
he came to appreciate many freshly cooked delicacies (especially turkey)
and he loved his Victoria home, having had no regrets whatever about
leaving the cold, snowy alleys of Toronto where he has spent his kittenhood.
He was a proud fellow who liked to give the impression of being aloof and
independent
but who never failed to purr when patted and who frequently curled up in bed
–
either with us or with the teddy bears with whom he shared his little brass
bed.
Pilgrim had a number
of physical problems and several times we had feared
that we would lose him. We remember all those occasions of rushing him
to his veterinarian and being grateful for the miracles performed that saved
his life
and returned him to us. Undoubtedly, he lived at least 9 lives.
But this time there were to be no more. He had a slow growing tumour
on the right side of his jaw. His veternarian told us 16 months ago that
he might die soon but Pilgrim was stubborn, and he kept going (and savouring
life)
almost to the very end. He had a good Christmas but his condition began to
worsen
quickly toward the end of January and we knew that those were his last days.
He
spent much
of his time in his little brass bed, getting up only to drink, eat, and use
the litter box.
Three nights before he died, he surprised us by jumping up on our bed.
He marched up and put his head on George’s pillow, snuggled close and
stayed there
purring till morning. The day before he died, he took his last stroll in his
garden;
we watched him walk for the last time up his garden path.
From that point, he didn’t/couldn’t eat and on the final day he
neither ate nor drank;
he wanted simply to sleep in his bed. A veterinarian came to the house and
the end
was peaceful; Mr. Pilgrim will live always in our hearts!
He is (and always will be) sorely missed!
