TRIBUTE TO RADAR

When my son, Josh adopted his cat, Radar was already three years old, and  had arrived at the Animal Care Facility with his own bed—obviously, a well cared for pet who needed a home.

The first time I met Radar was when I visited my son, the television Meteorologist. Josh had to leave for the studio, and I—a person who had never developed a relationship with a cat—was left alone looking at this fifteen-pound-Norwegian-Forest-Feline, who had made a a bed out of my black trench coat.

I said, “Well, it’s just you and me Kid,” and all he did was stare at me.  I have since learned from the comic, Paula Poundstone that, “Cats get the same exact look whether they see a moth or an axe-murderer.” Getting no response, I decided to leave Radar alone and give him time to warm up to me, so I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. I sat at the table and opened the newspaper. However, I suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching me, but nobody was there, until I looked up, and saw Radar, who was peering down at me from the top of the kitchen cupboards.

Then I panicked, “What if he falls and hurts himself?” Josh will never forgive me.” I yelled, “Get down you cat. You’re not supposed to be up there.” Of course, he was probably thinking, “This is my house. YOU go away!” I slapped my hand against the newspaper and shouted,”Get down!” At that, he jumped from the cupboard to the counter and onto the floor. Then he ran to the dining room, leapt onto that table and slid off entangled in the tablecloth. He popped his head out and gave me the, “I’m the Boss around here” look. At that, I capitulated. Then he disappeared. Later, I turned on the TV to watch Josh do his weather stuff, and heard a loud multisyllabic yowl. Unfortunately, Radar had fallen asleep behind the TV set , and the sudden noise had made him levitate. Turning off the TV, I looked at him and said, “Kitty, it’s time for milk and cookies.” He got the milk.

Over the years, Radar and I became kind-of friends. I liked him. He tolerated me, but he loved my son and later my daughter-in-law, Barbara. He enjoyed sniffing her hair. I learned a lot from Radar— “When you are hungry eat! When you are tired find a sunbeam and take a nap! And, when there’s a thunderstorm, hide under the bed!” I suspect that Radar was probably part pooch, because around the same time every evening, he’d run to the window and look for my son to come home from work. When Josh arrived, Radar would follow him up the stairs and roll over for a tummy pet.

Radar was also a spoiled brat, because just like a little kid, when my son was on the phone talking to me, Radar would jump into his lap and mew, “Pay attention to me!” At that, Josh would say, “Mom, would you like to talk to Radar?” And, I would always say, “No!” Because if Radar could talk, I know he’d just refuse to do so.

As the years passed,  Radar did seem to remember me when I visited, and he became more friendly. I’m not sure if it was me he liked or the toys filled with catnip that I would bring him. On occasion he’d sidle up to me and sit near me, and let me pet him, and this wild and domestic beautiful creature eventually won my heart, as I accepted him on his own terms.

Having reached 18 years, Radar had led a contented life. He had been cared for and loved. He had been fed and played with and left to his own devices. He had a loving family. He also left this earth on his own terms. One day, he ate a little, he played a little, and then he lay down and died. Just as he had lived, he seemed to have done it his own way.

“When the cat you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.”

Esther Blumenfeld