Loss

Losing a pet is a hard thing. Losing a pet when out of the country is even harder. Munichabella was our family cat. When trying to figure out what to name her, we were sitting down for lunch the day we brought her home and she sat at my husband's feet as if she were begging for food. I giggled and said, "Little Mooch!" She turned her head immedicately as if being called. And since we knew a little girl named Munichabella, whose family called her Mouchee, our kitty was called Mouchee ever since. She was born in July of 1998 in Hong Kong. She made the big move to the USA in December of 2001. It was a big change from Hong Kong to Mississippi, but she adjusted pretty well, considering that the loud animated toy (Gavin) was becoming mobile. When the loud, animated, mobile toys grew in number (Brendan & Ashlynn), she grew to appreciate the older ones who could feed, brush, and play with her. One of my kids' first phrases was not kitty, but Moo Moo, when they were calling for Mouchee. She still treasured her times with my husband and me in the evenings when she had free run of the house without concern of the littlest ones reaching out to touch her fluffy tail. When the time came for a second move, to Indiana, Mouchee traveled along side (in her carrier) during the overnight drive (during Hurricane Katrina). She settled into the apartment (for a few months) pretty well and was even happier when we found our home (with a basement and a room all to herself). As two more little ones joined the family, Mouchee enjoyed the older ones feeding her and playing. She especially enjoyed having a room all to herself where it was quiet, cool, and she could sleep whenever she wanted without being disrupted. At night, she enjoyed running around and playing with my husband and me. Even as she was getting older, she was still a very sweet cat, who enjoyed interacting with preschool classes during 'bring your pet to school day'. I'm so thankful that she was able to do that last fall before we moved to Moscow and that my kids have pictures of her to remember how special she was. It wasn't until we were planning to leave for Moscow that Mouchee's age really started to sink in. Sure, she liked having space to herself and slept more than she used to. But she was still very agile, great at jumping and running, and incredibly beautiful. She was very sweet and loving. She was getting old, but was showing no signs of leaving this world. But knowing how old she was, I mentally told myself that it could be the last time I would see her again. Life is full of uncertainties. Never in my heart did I imagine that I wouldn't be there for her when she died. Mouchee is a cat unlike any I've ever known. She played fetch and liked to be petted, but did not insist on sitting on other's laps. She liked to have her space (like many cats do), but was also very kind and playful. My husband even risked his life to save Mouchee when she found herself on the other side of the glass balcony edge (5th floor of the building) and couldn't find her way back. He climbed over the balcony side to the side of the building ledge where she was hiding in fear. I was pregnant for Gavin at the time and it scared me to death. He wasn't even thinking when he did it, but was certain that if he hadn't gone right then to get her, that she may have accidentally jumped (it was dark outside) after a moth or something. He tossed her to me on the balcony and she was safe. Though it was clear that Mouchee did not appreciate the loud, unpredicatble years of my children when they were little (and some are still little), she did grow to love them as they were a bit older and my kids all loved her from the first time they set eyes on her. Moo Moo Mouchee Cat lives on in all our hearts.