Before Sarah & I were married, I always wanted a cat, an animal that she had never exactly warmed up to. A retail job during her illegal alien days introduced her to a lovely cat called Thomas, so she softened a bit on that front. I seized the opening, and 5 days after our wedding, I went to Bide a Wee, a local NY shelter to look for a cat to start our married life together with. Unfortunately, our landlord had decreed no pets, so I got the bright idea to get a cat that had already been declawed so he wouldn't leave marks. I met a 2 year old male called "Sweetie" who seemed a little shy & since he was the only one who was suitable, I adopted him. Since he was a cat and couldn't object, we immediately christened him Frank.
Frankie lived through the dark studio days on 83rd Street (bright idea not - we lost most of our deposit due to damaged floors), 22nd Street, 35th Street, Sterling Place & sometimes at Oak Hill Road upstate. He survived what can only be described as Penis removal surgery at the age of 7. A nasty bout of fleas while living in pretty much squalor in Ft. Lauderdale was certainly a low point for us all.
He outlived Lloyd, his beloved "brother" who he shared a bed with for 12+ years. After several years of extreme skittishness, he decided that he was in love with Sarah & would incessantly follow her around the house to sit on her lap or try and get between us in bed. He was definitely around for several of our attempts to start a family.
He truly hated riding in the car the last few years. Ususally by the time we had arrived at the Brooklyn Bridge (a journey of only 2 miles)for a trip upstate he had performed the "Trifecta," which involves relieving himself from all three main orifices. We got the hint and let him stay in Brooklyn most weekends.
Frankie died today at the unlikely age of 19 1/2. If he could have held on a little longer he could have voted in the next election. Grace has been told he has gone to live with all of Brooklyn's really old & sick kitties. Apparently if you tell a little kid that a pet has gone to sleep forever, then sleep can become frightening. She's already stopped napping, so the sleep lie was tossed in favor of the feline Century Village ruse.
Good night Frankie.
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