In the winter of 1998, a young kitten made its way to our house on the mountain at Fairway View Trail. When we were walking that fall, we had noticed the kitten playing in the yard of the home of some people had just moved into our neighborhood.
It was Christmas break when the kitten found us, and our daughter, Erin, was home for the holidays from Sweet Briar. Erin has always enjoyed a special touch for kittens. When one of the cats on our farm in Canada would have a batch of kittens, you could always count on Erin to climb up into the loft of the barn, and catch them one by one. She would bring them into the kitchen, warm some milk and pour it into the lid of a mayonnaise jar. Then she would stick the kitten's nose in the milk, and in the matter of minutes we would have another tame kitten.
That Christmas of 1998 Erin carried back the little kitten to its home and gave it to the people living there. She did it a couple of times. It was too cold for a young kitten to be wandering a snow covered mountain.
Our new neighbors were not very good with pets, they would leave on trips, and the best we could tell, they left their garage door cracked, and their animals had to fend for themselves.
Well the kitten was determined to find a new home. Our Lab, Chester, was a beautiful, gentle dog, but he was big. The kitten somehow figured out that Chester was the key to our house. He made friends with Chester, and after we figured out that the kitten wasn't being cared for at home, he always had a warm place at our house. He remained an inside/outside kitty.
Our neighbors never seemed to notice the kitten's absence even in the extreme cold of that winter, so we finally took him to the vet, and got his shots up to date, and Malarky as we called him, became a part of our family.
He was an especially affectionate kitty, and loved to curl up tightly in a tight little ball which is how he got the nickname of little round cat. He and Chester would sleep together in Chester's bed. They were the greatest of friends. They had a game where Chester would pretend to chase Malarky, Malarky would quickly climb a foot or two up a tree. Then Malarky would come down and walk over and rub Chester's nose.
The one or two times Chester heard a cat fight in his yard, he immediately routed the intruding cat. Malarky would go on walks with us sometimes. You could see him walking in bushes a few feet from us. His legs were always a little bowed from his early life, but he developed a wonderful silky coat.
Our neighbors moved away, and we heard through the grapevine that they had given us their cat. Like many cats Malarky had decided which family was his.
Some other neighbors got a new kitten, and Malarky, strong male cat that he had become, decided to adopt the kitten. You could see him bathing the kitten and bringing it mice that he caught while hunting.
In 2004 Chester passed away, and Malarky seemed to be lost for a while. Chester had a favorite green rug where he would take his treats. For the first year after Chester was gone, you could catch Malarky rolling on his buddy's favorite rug. You could tell he was remembering his old friend.
One day Malarky got in a cat fight, and we had to take him to the vet. He had to stay inside for a few days to recover. It was as if he decided on his own that being inside was better than being outside. He quit asking to go outside so he became a full fledged indoor kitty. Even before his wound he had gotten to the point of only going out once a day for an hour or so.
I always thought he liked to stay in the house to make sure his house never disappeared.
In 2006 when we started alternating our time between the beach and the mountains, Malarky started traveling with us. He was never a happy traveler, but he made the best of situation and preferred to travel asleep on my chest or on Glenda. He would acquiese to riding on the center console of our truck. The truck was his favorite vehicle. No matter what house he was in, he seemed to settle right in and enjoy himself.
At the coast he was never an outside kitty, but he thoroughly enjoyed walking almost daily on our large deck. Whenever he heard me head to my upstairs office, he would hurry to get into the lead and stand expectantly by the back door until I went out on the back steps while he explored the deck. He would sometimes come to the wooden part of the stairs and sharpen his claws, but mostly he would stand and smell the breeze. He never liked the door to his home shut so if the wind blew the door shut, he would stand by it until he could go in his house.
Twice he got around me and went down the stairs. He immediately decided that it was a mistake and found his way to kitchen door in the garage where he waited patiently to be let in his house.
Malarky was a wonderful part of our life.
We could always count on being welcomed home. If he was asleep upstairs you could hear him on the stairs as we walked into the house. He would expect to be petted, and he was well rewarded.
Often in the evening Malarky and Glenda, my wife, would jockey for position on the sofa. Most often I would find them curled up together when I finished my evening work. Malarkly would often be tucked in behind her knees.
We had a ritual at night when we would turn down the bed. He loved going to bed so he would often start working at 10 PM trying to convince us to go to bed. He would "help" turn down the bed walking from one side to the other to be petted. Then I would whistle at him, and he would come running for a pet, and then go back to Glenda for a shoulder rubdown. For the last part of the ritual, he would be transported in Glenda's arms to our bathroom where he would sit between our two sinks and eventually decide which sink was worthy of providing water that night. He much preferred running water to pond water for much of his life.
During the day, Malarky, like most cats had a lot of favorite spots. He was especially fond of squishing down pillows or sleeping on the tops of the cushions of our sofa. He could be found burrowed into the decorative pillows on the beds at times. If we sneaked a nap during the day, he would always join us.
He loved the spring and fall when he could sit by an open window and enjoy the smells of the outside world. He was a frequent companion when I worked in my office and had the window open overlooking the White Oak River.
Malarky also loved to play. Erin made him what turned out to be his favorite toy. We called it purple egg roll. It was long enough for some serious scratching. During his morning playtime, he would pounce on it and then hold it close to his belly and scratch it with his rear claws.
Our youngest daughter, Katie, had a couple of big dogs, and Malarky never considered them suitable substitutes for Chester. During visits he would often perch high above our fireplace and well out of reach of the dogs.
When they went to bed at night, he would always trot into our bedroom and take part in his turn-down ritual. Eventually Malarky would decide the cannine visitors had stayed long enough. He would take up residence behind the sofa and the dogs would then have to make their way around him at their own risk, never knowing when 12 pounds of furred fury would leap out at them. The dogs would often wisely ask for an escort by the sofa or at least walk as close to the far wall as possible.
Malarky never missed a night sleeping with us until recently.
In the summer we figured out that Malarky had some type of urinary tract problem. We took him to two vets, and over the course of the fall and early winter he had many vet visits, but he did not seem to get better. Finally after one vet visit, he got scheduled for an ultrasound in Wilmington. The weekend before the ultrasound, Malarky retreated to an upstairs bedroom and did not come down to sleep with us. He also quit eating and drinking. We were sure he would not make it through the weekend.
He surprised us and survived, but he was still too weak for the long ride to Wilmington so we nursed him along. He started eating again and drinking a little. We re-arranged our Christmas Holiday so Malarky would not have to travel. Erin and our son, Michael, came for the holidays, and Malarky made the most of it. It was touching to watch Michael who isn't very sentimental talk to Malarky and pet him. He could often be found curled up on a quilt Erin had made and tucked in behind her knees in his characteristic little round cat mode. She had also brought him some special food which he loved. When Erin left for Northern Virginia, she left her quilt because Malarky enjoyed sleeping on it so much.
Still we knew he was not well, but we also knew that the stress of a trip to Wilmington would be too much for him. Even this week he had that wonderful look of trust and love in his eyes. While he didn't have restful sleep, he did sleep with us and continue to enjoy short naps in his favorite spots, on my chest or behind Glenda's knees. He also did not miss any of my trips upstairs to the office. Even his last morning, he came up and waited as I let him go out to sniff the cold morning air.
Wednesday Glenda found a vet in Morehead City with an ultrasound so we made the decision to see if there was anything that could be done to make Malarky better or more comfortable. I had a sales meeting Thusday morning in Morehead City, but I managed to sneak out early so I could come home and help take Malarky to the vet.
We did not want him to get upset riding in a cage so one last time he took a trip on my chest. He wasn't as comfortable as he normally was, but he was still his sweet self. Glenda and Malarky stayed at the vet waiting for the ultrasound while I went down the street for some real estate training. Midway through the training, I got a call from Glenda. Malarky had a large cancerous tumor blocking his urinary tract, and there was nothing we could do.
We made the decision that we were hoping we would not have to make. You know when you make a decision to end a pet's life that you are doing it for them so they will not be pain. That does not make it any easier. You know that you will miss them forever, and for days continue to see them in their favorite spots.
They gave Malarky something to ease his pain, and I left the real estate class to be with him. As I walked up the street, Jeff, one of the other agents from our office saw me and gave me a ride to the vet's office. I was grateful for the ride, but it was hard to talk.
There I found Glenda and Malarky in a small room with a couple of easy chairs. Malarky was resting peacefully in his cage. I got to be with him for about thirty minutes. He was still alert and interested in his surroundings, but he seemed very peaceful.
Doctor Taylor came in, and gave Malarky another shot. We lifted Malarky onto a blanket on Glenda's lap where he curled up and slowly closed his eyes. He was obviously very relaxed and in no pain. We were both still petting him when the doctor came and gave him another shot. In a short time Malarky slipped away from us. I will never forget how peaceful he looked curled up on Glenda's lap with his tail tucked up against his body.
I won't deny there being lots of tears from both of us, but it was something we knew that had to be done. We were pleased that it was able to happen in such a peaceful, respectful manner. We greatly appreciate the sympathy and kindness of Dr. Taylor and the staff at Bridges Professional Park Animal Hospital. Thursday was the first we had ever been there, and they still treated Malarky like the wonderful pet that he was.
A friend who is a vet once told us that people who don't like cats just have never had a wonderful one. Malarky was a wonderful cat, always willing to cuddle at the slightest hint of an opportunity.
There is no doubt in my mind that Malarky had enough love and trust to melt almost anyone's heart.
Going to bed was hard Thursday night, but we know that Malarky is at peace, and he will never be forgotten. He will always be a part of our memories.
We take some comfort in the thought that Malarky and Chester are back together. I suspect the grass is green and the sun always warm where they are.
Photo memories of Malarky.