My heart is heavy. Yesterday, our big cat, Marcel, left this world. He was old, and his body had been failing him for a few months. We had taken him to the vet in December after he had stopped eating regularly and found out that he had kidney problems. We put him on antibiotics and fluids and special food and he got much better for about two months.

I like to think that he had a bit of unfinished business. He hadn’t been himself for a couple of months prior to December, and he didn’t want to go out that way. So, once he got his new food and his fluids he perked up. He was his old self for a few precious weeks, coming downstairs, sitting at the dinner table, sitting with me at the piano, chatting with us. And we spent a lot of quality time with him because he needed us to give him the food and the fluids. It was a special time, and I’m grateful for it.

My heart is full of joy. I remember so many good things about our big cat. We had Marcel for nine years (he was about four when we got him). We got him from the SPCA on a day I won’t forget. We were just going to look, thinking about getting a cat, but not really committed yet. We had seen an ad for Marcel on the SPCA website. When we went in, there he was, just as cute as in the pictures. We walked in and I sat down on the floor. Marcel walked up to me right away and sat on my chest, facing me, and started to purr. The SPCA volunteers were so taken by that – they hadn’t seen any cat do that before. We always said that “Marcel chose us,” not the other way around. We went out for lunch to “decide” if we would take him home, but of course the decision was already made.

He was so good with people. He liked everyone, right away. He slept with us in our bed the first night we brought him home, and most nights after that. When we had guests over, he would sleep with them in the guest bedroom, perhaps thinking “these people probably miss their cat, so I’ll make sure they feel at home.” He was always happy. He would purr instantly whenever you touched him, and loved to sit in your lap. He loved to eat. He loved to sit in the sun and have his belly rubbed. He loved the heated floors in the bathroom. He was just so happy and he made us so happy.

After we found our little cat, Noe, in the backyard, Marcel increasingly became “Trina’s cat” as Noe became “my cat.” Marcel would sleep curled up in Trina’s arms, with his paw across her chest, hugging her all night. He was her living teddy bear.

Marcel was a very lucky cat. He was never sick, until his last year. He never had to stay over at the vet. He was well loved by everyone who met him. He had toys to play with, sunbeams to lie in, chairs and beds to curl up on, plenty of laps to sit in, a kitten to chase around, heating vents to lie in front of, and later, a heated floor of his own. His was a good life, and it showed. He had such a sweet disposition, as if he knew how lucky he was. And he gave back all the love he received, curling up with anyone who would offer a lap and purring loudly.

My heart is laughing. He was my Big Cat. My button-bitin’ cat. The alpha cat. The purring machine. Mr. Wriggle Cat. Super Marcel. He would jump into your seat if you got up, so predictably, that I would always say “shuffle your feat, lose your seat” whenever I got up. He was my Chatty Cat. My Handsome Boy. My piano cat.

He lived a good life. A long life. A happy life. He gave us purrs and joy and comfort. In the end, he was ready to go. He had spent the last two months being himself, enjoying everything he had always enjoyed. And then he was done and he was tired and he was ready and he let us know.

My heart is heavy. Marcel was a special cat, and we will never see his like again. I will miss him so much. Thank you for choosing us, Marcel. We love you.