Luke

Well, it was time. My good friend Luke left us yesterday at the ripe old age of 14 years. He went peacefully and (thankfully) not by a needle at the vet's office. He simply fell asleep and didn't wake up. I know, it's only a cat, but he was a friend too and Luke had been with me since I was in 8th grade. My brother had him before then, but gave him to us to keep when he moved into an apartment that wouldn't allow him to have pets. From what we could remember, Luke was born around the end of 1991. I wish everyone could have met Luke. Even people who didn't like cats at all liked Luke. He was never mean or acted crazy. He was just a great pet. You could occasionally catch even my dad, who proudly displays a sticker saying "I love cats: scattered, smothered, and covered" on his car, sitting in his chair petting Luke. So, in honor of Luke, I'd like recap some of the greater things he was known for.

Many people have assumed that Luke was named after Luke Skywalker of Star Wars fame. Nope, that isn't the case. Luke was named after the Paul Newman film Cool Hand Luke, a movie my dad, my brother and myself have enjoyed watching together on many occasions. I suppose being named after the Star Wars Luke would've been nice, but the demeanor of this cat was much more in line with Paul Newman's character.

Before mom kicked him out of house (after I moved out), Luke had only been a housecat. He was fat (topped out at 23lbs at one time), not too quick and, get this, really enjoyed sleeping under the covers in a bed. It was hysterical. Depending on how cold it was, Luke would either sleep on top, between the sheet and the comforter or underneath everything. He would always end up either at my feet or, if I laid on my side, tucked neatly behind my bent knees. He would always sleep at night even though cats are generally nocturnal. Every once in a while, I'd wake up with him attempting to nudge his way back under the covers after getting up for whatever reason. Sometimes in the mornings, I would wake up with that lump of fur laying between my feet. I'd start poking him with my toes and moving my legs around and soon I'd hear a low grumble coming from him. If I continued, he would grumble some more and then politely clamp some teeth down on one of my feet as if to say, "I could bite this foot off if I wanted to, buddy. You'd better leave me alone." But he never clamped enough for it to really hurt. He would only "warn" me.

Luke didn't eat just anything. In fact, he would only eat one thing: Science Diet cat food. Don't ask me why, but even if you put tuna fish in front of him, he would turn it down. That cat loved his Science Diet. However, he didn't always like his Science Diet to be hard as it was. So Luke, being the ingenious feline he was, would dip his paw in his nearby water bowl, hold the dripping paw over the food for a second, shake it off, and then take a few bites right where the water had dropped! That was one smart cat.

As with his food, Luke was just as picky about his liquid intake. While he would drink from the water bowl if he had too, Luke would normally run up the stairs (while looking back to make sure you were following) meow a few times and hop into the tub. He would put his face up to the faucet and meow until you turned a trickle of water on so he could drink from it. At one point at the height of his obesity, Luke actually would wait for you to pick him up and place him into the tub instead of jumping in himself! I know, I know, we spoiled him, but Luke was worth it.

For many years, my mother or I gave Luke a weekly bath in an attempt to keep the cat hair down. You could tell Luke never liked it (with all his whining meows), but he never tried to run out or scratch you or anything. He just stood there and put up with it. Maybe because he had been given baths since he was a kitten, I don't really know. The bath was not the worst part, it was the amount of time it took to dry his hair! Cat hair is hollow in the middle so it absorbs a lot of water. Even with the hair dryer it took 15 minutes to get him dry enough to prevent hairballs. Speaking of which, any time Luke did get one, he would never chuck it up on a solid floor...it always had to be carpet or something similar!

Luke knew when we would go on trips. He would go get under the bed or the couch and not come out when we were getting ready to leave. I guess he was mad.

Luke talked to you. Of course, nobody understood him, but for the longest time he either thought he was human or thought everyone else was a cat. If you looked at him and spoke, he would meow in reply. Sometimes we would have "conversations" while he was laid up on my stomach.

Luke would get scared. Before we put him out in the garage, if you picked him up, held him and took him outside, he would reach up and wrap his paws around your neck while resting his head on your shoulder and looking behind you. I guess because he didn't know anything about the outside world and it freaked him out. You could feel if he got more scared because he would tighten his hold! I know it sounds dumb, but he really would do this. I have many witnesses!

Like all cats, Luke liked to sleep a lot. You could always catch him under the skylight in the bonus room sunning himself and if I feel asleep on the couch, I would normally wake up with him right next to me...asleep himself. And occasionally he would kill little insects around the house. I watched him many times bat roaches around until he got tired of playing with it and finally killed it. After moving outside, he actually brought down a bird...and this was from a cat who not only lived inside almost his whole life, but had no front claws!

While it wouldn't work every time, Luke normally came to you if you called him. He might take his sweet time, but eventually he would hop up on your lap, especially if he knew he was going to get petted. If you really took some time to pet Luke, you'd find that he would not only be drooling on you while you petted him, but would "pump" his paws on your bare skin somewhere. But never through a shirt or anything. I guess maybe he thought he was returning the favor. As a joke, I would sometimes take a piece of his own hair and quickly shove it up his nose to make him sneeze. I was never mean about it, just playing with him. He normally just sat and took it though, expecting me to stop being a child soon and go back to rubbing his head.

There's a lot more I could write about that cat. I didn't realize until just now how much I actually remembered. I don't think I'll be getting another cat soon; I don't believe Luke would easily be replaced. So here's to you, Luke. Goodbye and thanks for all the memories. You'll be missed on those cold nights when my feet just can't seem to keep warm. And going home to see my parents just won't be the same without you there. While it might be a stretch, maybe God really does have a place set aside for good pets. If so, I know you're there!