Do we over-emotionalize relationships with our pets and animals? I have been thinking about this ever since I got back from Tanzania this past spring. I couldn’t get it out of my head that there were child farmers starving just outside a park where black rhinos could receive million dollar medical care. With Rigby’s death, this thought has once again entered my stream of consciousness.
The outpouring of grief and love over my post of Rigby needing to be put to sleep was overwhelming, thoughtful, kind, generous, and so well-received. But do we feel this same sense of loss when a human passes away? I guess there is this immediate relation to innocence that we put onto our pets/animals. Rigby was the epitome of innocence and kindness and a cherub-faced angel. But Beanie is definitely not. My black cat Sam was not. My dog Charlotte was very sweet, but she was definitely a polarizing figure being that she was a full chow and questionable mannerisms came with the breed. But, I have mourned and will mourn the deaths of these animals just as much as I am going through grieving for Rigby.
But, think about all of the tragedies happening all over the world . . . I thought about all of the pets and animals displaced by the hurricanes in the US. I also thought about the people, but maybe I thought about the pets more. And, with Gaza, I am continually thinking about kids, but also pets. And, oddly, I thought about cats when thinking about Ukraine. I am not sure why I thought there might be more cats in the Ukraine than elsewhere, but I kept picturing displaced cats or found dead cats. It’s not normal, I know this. I have learned to let these bizarre thoughts enter my conscience, but then leave. And, then I write about it – like I am doing now.
Rigby came into my life at a very tumultuous time. My friend had died of suicide about 9 months earlier and my dog Charlotte died two weeks earlier. I was in Qatar and getting sick every other week because of sand that was trapped in my lungs. I didn’t want a pet. But a friend of mine showed me this picture of this cat on a Doha Facebook rescue page called Cat of Qatar. It was this fluffy odd-looking cat that looked really worn out and his hair all matted. But, he kind of reminded me of my chow, Charlotte. And, so I sent in an inquiry about this cat. The response was something like, “He is in grave danger of dying and he is on IV treatments. If he makes it through, we will give you a call.”
That was it. I didn’t hear from them again for another three weeks. And, then, towards the end of February, I was given a call late on a Sunday afternoon: “He is ready to be picked up. Can you come now? We have food, a litter box, and a carrier. His name is Zeus. We think he is 5 years old.” And, that was that. Little Zeus joined me at my house in Doha and we became best buds.
He looked like ET when he arrived. They had shaved his entire body and his whiskers! He had these huge eyes and such a flat face that it kind of went inward. His mouth was shaped like a snake’s mouth and he snorted like a little pig every time he got excited about things. Those first few nights in my house, he would curl up next to my head on the pillow and wrap one little paw around my hand and take his other paw and gently put it on my head. He was so sweet and gentle. But he was also an odd little fellow in need of a name change. I wanted his name to be proper, but not entirely serious. Something that sounds like a character in a children’s book. So, I landed on Sir Rigby “HeyZeus” Noodleface. Rigby for short. HeyZeus instead of Jesus because his previous name was Zeus.
We were in Qatar until June of that year (2016), when I went back to Baltimore for my last summer of graduate school. Rigby came with me. The Maryland Institute College of Art had these huge cloth bins on rollers that students would move in and out of the dorms with. So, I snuck Rigby in under blankets and luggage, and he lived with me in a private two-bedroom dorm room. We slept in one bedroom and I filled the other bedroom with bubble wrap and cardboard boxes and toys for him to play with. The dorm had two windows where he would peek out every once and a while, filled with wonder at this new land called the United States of America. His hair had grown in fully and his whiskers, and he looked like a gorgeous big Persian kitty and had the funniest personality.
After Baltimore, we drove to Florida to live, and then up to Georgia. After Georgia, we flew back overseas to start a new opportunity in China. We were in China for 3 years, scooped up an ambitious and rowdy dog named Beanie, and then moved back to the States during Covid for a short-term job in Connecticut. Post Connecticut, we moved to Cambodia and then back to China, where I currently live. Rigby has lived an exciting and fun and adventurous life. But I never expected his last year of life to be now. Ever.
All of the cats I have ever had have always lived to old age. Like 18 – 22 years old. Rigby was 13. Or presumably 13. And he was so nice and sweet and caring. Why would a kind and gentle animal be taken away so soon? My only thought is that he wanted to join his sister Charlotte, who also passed away suddenly at 13 after an unexpected stroke.
I found him when I returned home from my annual art conference in Europe. It was an amazing time in Barcelona with incredible artists and fun people. I walked into the door of my apartment in China where a worried Archie came running over to me. I saw Rigby laying on the tile floor, still. I called his name out twice and then I knew. I rushed over to him and laid my head on his chest and started wailing. The kind of wailing that you see during war time, when mothers lose their sons or daughters. It was that kind of wailing. And I kept saying, “I am so sorry! I am so sorry!” I will never be able to forgive myself for not being there for him. He was such a good boy and he was completely alone when he died. I mean, Archie was there and sat next to him. But I wasn’t. And that is something I will never be able to forget.
I picked up his stiff little body that seemed to weigh nothing, wrapped him in a small handmade blanket and went to my bed. I held him wrapped in that blanket in my bed, under the covers, for a long time crying. It was very dramatic and weird and felt like some old-lady-Grey-Gardens-Miss-Havisham kind of ordeal. And then my friend came over to help me and it was time to take him to the vet’s office for cremation.
Life sucks sometimes. It really, really sucks. But I also have to think about what a magical life he had. I’ve stayed in touch with the person who found him on the street in Doha and rushed him to the vet. He reached out to me via Instagram on the day we were moving away from Qatar and kept thanking me for adopting Rigby. He has now followed our journey since then. Rigby has met hundreds of people on his travels across Asia and the United States. He welcomed little baby Beanie into our home without ever once being mean to him (even though Beanie is mean to everyone). He has been the subject of lots of different artworks, mostly by students, but also some well known artists. We’ve gone on road trips across Texas and Tennessee, staying in different friends’ studios at each stop along the way.
Every day, he would sit in the sink and just wait for the water to be turned on so he could drink it and let it run all over his fur. It was kind of gross, but also hilarious. He shook water everywhere, all the time. I bought a little stool for him to sit on in the shower because he liked to sit in there while the water was running and clean his body. I know, bizarre. He sat like a human on couches, beds, and the floor all the time. Sometimes I think he was just pondering about life when he was sitting upright like that. Rigby was an old soul. A gentle boy who never complained about anything.
I will miss Rigby every day. He was such a wonderful cat and pet. Thank you again to everyone who sent messages or reached out. It meant the world to me. He will live on in the artwork and stories and pictures and videos. Please see his Instagram Story Highlights (there are three of them) or spend time going through his hashtags for more pics: #snortyswingmyway and #rigbyandthebean. Rigs: you were the best boy! I will love you always! Long live Sir Rigby!
