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Monday, June 12th, 2000. Most Bay Area people will remember this as the day Steve Young officially retired from the San Francisco 49ers . I’ll remember it as the day Tiger, my cat and dear friend, died. I returned from teaching my Aikido classes to find his body on the pathway to my cabin in the Santa Cruz mountains.
I guess it can be argued whether or not an animal has a soul. My sense is that some do, and some more than others. Tiger definitely had a lot of “soul”. His eyes were unusually alive and expressive. His actions were often times very purposeful.
He came to me at about 5 months old very late in 1995. A friend asked me specifically if I would take him, and upon seeing him, I agreed. At the time I was living in the Aikido school (the dojo). The school already has a couple of live in cats. Being much older than Tiger and bonded since birth, there was considerable distance both physically and emotionally between them and this new kitten. He would try to play with them and find there was no interest on their part. They were much, much older then he.
So I became his playmate. We would wrestle and run together in the dojo in the free times between classes. The other cats would sleep curled up together. Tiger, not allowed into this group, would sleep upstairs with me. He was very lean and long. Initially he resembled an ocelot as well as a cat. He was very, very fast. Sometimes he would seem to streak in the air instead of just running. Often times after classes I would run laps around the mat. Tiger would then hide behind something and as I ran past would attack me. It became fun to see if I could detect is hidden presence and anticipate his attacks. He won some. I won a few. He had a way of not just crouching by the side of the mat, but incredibly flattening himself so that he was virtually invisible.
Once after a day class, a group of us were going out to lunch at a neighboring restaurant. Tiger followed us, although he knew that this bothered me. I had this fear that he would either be hit by a car or just get lost. Once at the restaurant, I tried to grab him and take him back to the dojo. He responded by running behind some plants and shrubs where I couldn’t reach him. The first thing I did when we all got out of the restaurant was to look in the shrubbery to see if he was still there. I couldn’t find him, so I assumed he went back to the dojo. As we were heading back, he unexpectedly streaked right through us from behind. He’d hidden, waited us out, then surprised us. Where was he? We’ll never know.
In 1996 I got property in the Santa Cruz mountains and moved out of the dojo. Most cats bond to a place rather than to a person. But Tiger was definitely my cat. Or rather I was his friend. Without hesitation I took him out to the mountains to live among the redwoods.
My cabin in situated below road level, so I need to go down some stairs to reach it. When I get home at night it is usually very dark, and a flashlight is a necessity. When I first moved out, I would always forget my flashlight. No problem. Tiger used to meet me at the head of the stairs. I could follow his form down the stairs even in the extreme darkness. How about having a personal seeing eye cat?
Tiger loved to hunt. There were the usual assortment of birds and rats he would bring in. I would talk to him and thank him, because in his own kitty way he was honoring me. But I would tell him to not and this would stop. For awhile. And then I would thank him again and tell him again. And it would stop. For awhile again. He also loved to bring in pine cones, which he did between live things. If he was upset with me, usually if he thought I was gone too long on a weekend or a vacation, I would arrive home to find the main cabin room just covered with pine cones.
How did he die? I called a personal friend and psychic. She got a very clear reading that he caught and ate a rat that had been poisoned.
I grieved him and his loss. Then in September, 2000 I got a boy kitten. About a month later he was followed by his sister. They are both named after characters in Miyazaki’s Princess Mononoke. The boy is Yarkule and the girl, San. They are both a handful and wonderful.
However, I still find myself talking with Tiger. He even appears in my dreams now and again. Significantly, of course. Can a cat have a soul? You be the judge.
I wrote a poem celebrating and commemorating his passing. And recently a dear friend told me she had found some pictures of Tiger taken with her daughter in 1996. Most cats are terrified of young children, but notice how alert, calm, and playful Tiger is with a very young Lorene May Sousa.
The saga of Tiger continues. Recently I have been using codes for programs with his name so he has been in my consciousness. And a piece of music I recently composed with Dennis brought back memories of him. And I unearthed some drawings done of me and him. I took all of these and put together a video of his life. I hope you enjoy it.
