The death of Marlon the cat - sad story

So I sat down with a colleague from the Fish Factory and happened to pass a comment about pets and cats. At which she said she had just lost her cat. It had slipped my memory, she asked if I knew and I said no. It might of been a mistake, but she then went on to tell the story.  One weekend she had decided to stay late at work. It was a Saturday and this was unusual for her but she did anyway. Then she returned home, as she approached her house she could see there was a crowd of people outside and wondered what on earth was happening. They were neighbours and passers-by. One said she had bad news. The cat (Marlon) had been attacked by two dogs. There were three dogs but the third had been held back by it's owner. Two men were walking past her house with their dogs. One had a Staff. It saw Marlon sitting outside her house and ran for it. I recall Marlon, I'd seen him once about a year ago when a group of us had been invited over for dinner. He was a beautiful cat. Quite a big ginger, but I could tell he had one of those relaxed happy attitudes, he liked attention and was so, so chilled. If you are a cat lover then you know every cat is different and to own one which is calm and relaxed and caring is beautiful. Marlon was obediently waiting for his mistress to come home and sitting outside his own house was the most natural thing in the world to do. The staff got hold of Marlon in his jaws and shook the cat swinging it from side to side. The two men walking their dogs got to the staff, and they had to prize the dog's jaws open so it would release Marlon. At which Marlon slopped off, Injured and in severe pain down an alleyway beside the houses. The neighbours outside had witnessed this event or some of them had and the others were there as moral support to the witnesses.

My colleage was mortified and in tears, she went down the alleyway to find Marlon. Calling out his name. Some of the neighbours had bought torches and blankets. It was February and had been an exceedingly cold long winter. Where ever the cat was it would be cold, the night was drawing in early. With the search party they went over garden fences from house to house. Some people came out and wondered what had happened. She told them and sympathetically they either helped or assisted in some way. Someone thought they had seen Marlon go to the end of a garden and had likely crawled down a fox-like-hole. She called out, but nothing. The eye witness was sure the cat was in the hole. They'd heard a cat crying out just after the incident. She scrambled amongst the thorns and undergrowth tearing her arms and legs in the brush but could not get to the hole. Going home she called the PDSA and her vet. The vet said they would be on standby for her at any time. The PDSA said they could not do anything until the cat was found. She called her friends and her son who was due home at about 11 p.m., then distraught with worry changed into some thick jeans and a jumper. She went back to the house again with a borrowed torch and pruning sheers and began to cut away at the undergrowth to get to the hole. To get to Marlon. Bit by bit, she got to it. Calling out to Marlon. There was no sound and no movement. Another phone call to the vet and they advised her not to shine a torch at the cat but away from it, otherwise it could go deeper into the hole. Her son turned up.

There was something between her son and Marlon. He was a special pet to her son.  So he tried instead. Rather than shine the torch in the hole or on the ground he shone it at himself and called to Marlon.  At which there was a cry from the hole. The wounded animal slowly clawed its way to the surface. One of it's legs was badly injured to the extent my colleague could not look at it. She scooped Marlon up in a blanket to warm him and immediately whisk him off to the vets. They knew she was coming.

Marlon was in a bad way. She left him with the vet and received a phone call at two a.m. they told her, Marlon would lose a leg, they had managed to warm him up and to sedate him. But they had to operate as well. They didn't know if his bladder was ruptured, they gave her the choice, because of Marlon's injury's it was going to be a difficult operation, or they could put him down. She spoke to her son and he thought they had to try and operate. At five a.m. she had another phone call. Marlon had not pulled through, they had been mostly successful with the operation but he had sustained so many tears to his muscles they were unable to patch him up. Marlon passed away.

As I listened to this conversation I got upset and don't know how I held it together.  Every pet I've known and loved has been very painful to lose. My colleague managed to hunt down both the men who and their dogs involved in this incident. There was a number of descriptions from neighbours and one neighbour had CCTV, so she had images of them. She found their address and reported the entire incident to the police.  Some three months later she sat with the dog owners in a police station and asked them why they left and didn't come back. She asked them if they knew and understood what they had done. How she had rescued Marlon how much she loved him. At first they were defensive but then became apologetic.  I can't believe she was able to hold it together like she had and gone through this process, I'd of felt like killing dog or the owner, doing it of course is a different thing. She kept as calm as possible during the entire interview with police officers present. The dog owners were given a warning, although there was nothing which could be done about the dogs this would be on file. She could of taken these two owners to court and also sued them for veterinary costs.  Thankfully she had insurance.  The dog owners were warned were this to happen again and the incident bought before a judge, given this previous history it would not look good for them or the dogs.

Marlon now sits in the front room and she wonders now what to do with his ashes.  The companionship and friendship he had once provided is lost and remembered every day.

Gandolfini is dead

There was some sad news today, the actor James Gandolfini died of a heart attack while on holiday in Italy.  He played the primary character in the American TV series about gangsters called The Sopranos. I did watch a few episodes and must admit to liking the ones I saw. Gandolfini was loved as an actor and also because of the respect he gave everyone no matter what part they played, he treated all those he met with dignity. It will be a shame, but saying this he was a bit porky. Around the waist line so to speak.  I did see him recently in a musical called Romance and Cigarettes playing opposite Susan Saradon and Kate Winslett.  Which for a musical I liked as well. Especially when I normally consider watching musical stuff as gay.

Gandolfini was 51 years old. In the film I saw he smoked cigarettes profusely and died of cancer at the end. I guess he must of smoked in real life as well. He was overweight, and he obviously fell into the group of men who are likely to pop their clogs prematurely. I reflect on this prospect as 51 years is less than a stone's throw from my present age.  It makes me think I should be re-evaluating my lifestyle. Eating healthy, exercising more, losing weight, there's a good tyre round my own waist. I've finished a cup of tea and biting into a triple chocolate Swiss roll. For lunch it was beef in black bean sauce and ho fun. A very oily Chinese dish, but tasty. If I stand back and take a look at the set of cards I'm looking at, I'd be shaking my head and wondering if this fella was going to bluff it or fold, he could win or he could just drop dead. I know what I should do, but doing it is not so easy. Even though I have been out doing some kind of exercise three times this week, it's the eating bit which has to be tackled as well.

Sparkling Eyes reminds me she loves me and I should think of the future, think of Babyfro and Sparkling. Just as Sparkling has taken up the e-cigarette to quench her smoking habit. I should, I know I should. Gandolfini's death is now like the sword of Damocles. (Damn the sword).  Just waiting to be released. Oh well, there is one event none of us can escape from, and it's more a matter of how long we can stay alive. Or a matter of staying alive with your own marbles and knowing people you can get on with or haven't pissed off enough they don't talk to you any more. Knowing truly a lot of old people are shall I say engrossed in their own eccentricities.

I liked Gandolfini as an actor, I never got to meet him but the way he played his rolls, how he delivered himself on screen would suggest he'd of been an interesting person to talk to over lunch. Hell, I wouldn't want to talk to him while on the treadmill, he would of sweated and stank a bit, as all fat people do when they over exercise. Note to self, get some deodorant summer's on it's way.