Good-bye Moloko

Sometimes things happen in life that interrupt our creative process.  That happened yesterday as I lost my writing companion. 

Susan and I made a hard decision and had our cat, Moloko, euthanized.  Not only was the decision to have it done difficult, it was extremely hard and emotional to take him to the vet for the procedure.  Susan said her good-byes at home while I drove him to the vet’s office.  I must commend our local veterinary staff, particularly David, for providing support and comfort to us throughout this unpleasant decision and process.  His kind words and hand on my shoulder as I prepared to leave meant a great deal.  It was a tearful drive home for me.

On the days Susan was off at work Moloko would keep me company while I wrote.  I prefer to do my writing in our loft area and he would often curl up by my feet or try to climb in my lap to help me.  His purrs and affectionate head butts were pleasant to receive but in all honesty I cannot say they helped me focus on my task.

Moloko was a relatively new breed called a Foreign White.  They were bred from the Siamese strain in England a number of years ago to create a pure white cat with striking blue eyes.  His name, Moloko, is Russian for milk.  Most naturally occurring white cats with blue eyes before this breed was developed were born deaf.  Moloko was what I term “selectively deaf.”  If he wanted to respond he would, otherwise he pretended he didn’t hear you.  The most frequent exception to his “selective deafness” was when we were rattling dishes or opening food containers.

Moloko was 14 and we had him for the last 12 ½ years of his life.  He was a well-traveled cat, and logged nearly 17,000 miles with us in our RV and many more miles in cars.  Unlike a lot of cats he was a good traveler and seemed to enjoy it.  We towed a 5^th wheel trailer with our F-450 pickup and would put his cat carrier in the back seat with a cushion on top and the door open.  Once we started moving he would emerge from his carrier and sit on top where he could look out the windows.  Whenever we stopped and I turned the engine off he would get back in his carrier and wait to be taken inside the trailer.

Moloko in our 5th wheel, Homer, AK

 Despite how much we loved and cared for Moloko, I doubt if Susan and I will ever have another pet.  Our lifestyle now involves a different type of travel that is not conducive to bringing a pet.  We are still toying with the idea of moving abroad,  right now Ecuador is still our top choice, because we’d like to experience what it is like to live in a different culture.

Regardless of where we may end up in the future, Moloko will always hold a special place in our hearts and memories.

Goodbye, Moloko.