When I first met Higgins he was a spry little kitten who managed to get himself into all manners of trouble due to the pure nature of his obstinate will and curiousness. Being a Cornish Rex, Higgins had a built-in nature to climb and explore and generally cause all sorts of mayhem.
I’ve gotta say, Higgins and I have not had the best relationship over his fifteen years on this planet.
During a particular period in my life between school and career, Higgins and I were left to our own devices during work hours and it was more of a circus than a manageable coexistence. Often, he would make the extreme effort to hustle his furry black butt across the room just to bite me on the shin and chase would ensue. I can honestly say that I didn’t appreciate that mirth for a very long time. In talking about him, more often than not I’d bring the word “spite” into the conversation. Hell, I even did it this week.
Today, after a wonderful life of fifteen years and loving experiences with three other wonderful brothers, one of whom was taken far too soon, Higgins had to move on to his next adventure.
It’s never easy to lose a pet: especially one who has been there for all the pivotal points in one’s adult life, but with the good things in life must also come the bad.
I’m sad for the fact that I’m not going to hear Higgins’ “complaining” yowl every day, and I’m sad for his two brothers who love him very much and took wonderful care of him during the period in his life where his health started to fail. At the same time, I’m happy for all the things he helped me get through and the companionship he provided when he knew better than I that I needed him.
Higgins was always very proper and very accommodating. When his mom and I thought it would be a hoot to dress him up in a little devil costume and humiliate him with pictures, he tolerated our giggles and calmly waited for the “horrible” experience to be over. When we brought home other cats to join our little family, Higgins stepped up and acted in just the way an older brother should. When family life turned upside down, Higgins stayed his stoic self. If that’s not a fucking rock, I’m not sure what is.
For some ungodly reason, whenever I have ever heard the Bouncing Souls’ song “Undeniable,” I have always imagined that Higgins sings it. I see him stretched up a mic stand with his furry little walnut paws wrapped around the microphone crooning about his “red shoes.” It’s bizarre, but always brings a smile to my face.
Rest in peace, little furry bastard.Â Know that we are thinking about you always.