Monday, March 3, 2008

Rest in Peace

Last night Simon was hit by a car. We found him shortly after, his little body still warm. To say that we are heartbroken would be an understatement.
He was one of the most exceptionally sweet creatures I have ever known. He had a way of reaching into your heart and making you laugh. He was a special little guy who let me know long ago that he was put on this earth to spread smiles.
A few years ago I was living in a duplex above Simon with my 15-year-old cat whom I adored. Simon and I never paid that much attention to one another, I'd say hello as I passed him, he'd stare at me blankly, and that would be that.
Then one day my cat passed away. After a few days of sitting on my couch crying I looked up and saw Simon staring at me from my doorstep. He stayed there for two weeks. Every evening when I came home from work, every morning when I opened my door, every night when I locked up to go to bed, the little guy was there. It was as if he was keeping vigil on that door mat, letting me know that everything was going to be alright and that he was there when I was ready for him. That first week he sat in silence, the second week he started bringing me gifts. A bag of tire gauges, part of a sack that had housed cement and, of course, gloves. It didn't take long before he'd worked his way into my heart and, eventually, so did his owner.
We all moved, along with my other half's dog and second cat, into a little house and created a home together. And although Simon was only eight pounds of fur and furry his presence filled this home and spilled over through out the neighborhood. Everyone who knew him loved him, and in the same way that he brought me smiles through that door screen years ago he would do the same with all the visitors who came knocking.
Simon's greatest gifts weren't the panties, rags or stuffed animals he brought home, the most wonderful gift Simon gave was the happiness he spread. He was unlike any other animal I've known.
This morning the skies are stormy and the rain is coming down in buckets. Pretty appropriate, but no match for the waterworks going on inside my house. Even our dog, who Simon slept with every night on the dog bed, is hanging his head low this morning. And late last night I found him lying on our guest bed, where he is prohibited from sleeping, in between the pillows right where Simon had napped most of yesterday. He never went back to the bed he shared with Simon.
The last time I saw Simon, just and hour before we found him, he and the dog were standing outside together, noses held high, feeling the wind blowing hard as the storm clouds began to roll in. Then Simon took off, tearing across the yard, stopping to roll in some dirt, then running on to his last adventure.

This is his last present, brought in a few nights ago. A suede pot holder.
Thank you all who have followed Simon and his antics through this blog. I'm so happy that I could share part of him with you. And if you've ever looked at this site and smiled and felt a little lighter after reading about his exploits go out and do something today in Simon's memory. Give money to your local animal shelter, adopt and old dog or cat that needs a good home, make someone smile who needs it, or just go out and steal a pair of panties.

Goodspeed our little guy. Our little thief. You will so be missed.