Tina Boscha

This is part of my author bio: “Tina Boscha lives in Oregon’s Willamette Valley with her husband and stepdaughters along with two nutty boxers and two silly black cats.”

But sadly, now it should read “one silly black cat.”

We’ve known for a few days that Simon was gone, but didn’t know exactly when or where until late last night. He was twelve years old, had a bum knee, and tended to stick close to home, so close that he would spend days and days in the same spot - the bathroom window, on top of the heat vent, in the dogs’ crate (he was most definitely Alpha among the animals), in one of the kids’ closets.  He’d take a break for some food and outside time, where he usually sat on the south-facing deck or amid some flowers or the tomatoes.  I often liked to think he was guarding my plants for me. In reality, he was sunning himself, resting, just being King of the Castle and perhaps just being an old cat who has earned the right to bathe and do a whole lot of nothing.

Simon was my “stepcat.” He came with my husband and kids.  He was already loved then, and would sit with my husband (on his chest) in the bathtub, helping him through a tough time. Then with all of us together, Simon became all sorts of silly things to me, such as “baby kitty,” “Sime-loo,” “super snuggle man,” all those weird gibberish names that come out without much thought. I quickly learned that Simon had particular rules he lived by: never drink water out of a bowl, only a cup or in the sink; never sit NEXT to a human but ON them, preferring a lap but taking a shoulder or a forearm if that was all that was available. He sat on my lap at the computer and at the sewing machine, no matter how involved I was in my work, and loved the edge of the tub and human-flavored bathwater. He found being held to be mouthwatering, as he would drool all over you about ten seconds after being picked up.  He loved potato chips. He loved licking your hand raw and rubbing his face on yours. He loved ruling the other pets of the household with an iron paw.  I think he liked our dogs better than our cat Iggy, preferring himself only in the feline world. But yet I caught him on more than one occasion touching noses with our other kitty, signaling acceptance into the pack, just not comaraderie.

When Simon was younger and just lived with my husband and kids, he would go for walks with them in a small woods they called the “Sun Forest.” He would follow them and then, once in the trees, he would wander off only to come running back, leaping and flying past them but always staying close. He was the only cat I knew to take walks and to understand what they meant. I saw him do this just once and it was a joyful thing to behold.

He was always my husband’s cat, but yet he became mine too. I loved him and he loved me. All of us loved him, and he loved us.

I think it was his time to go, and we know it was at home and that it was sudden. He had gone through more than his nine lives, with his scrapes and fights and scars. He was a big, beautiful cat with a bigger personality and even though to some it’s silly to mourn a housecat, I know we will miss him terribly.

Goodbye Simon Maximilian Rosebud Carpet Sands (Boscha!). May you run forever in the Sun Forest of your dreams.