Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Mr. Jenkins


This morning Lina and I started off on our morning walk. We saw our friend Vivian with a man on the next street over through a neighbor’s yard. It wasn’t typical of them to stop and stand on the road over on Rte. 135, but we didn’t give it much thought, other than hoping to catch up with them to say hello. We rounded the corner and saw that, of course they were with Nicole, Vivian’s poodle and constant companion, who I refer to as Lina’s “friend” (I’m not sure if Lina is convinced, but that is another story entirely.) As they walked toward us, I could physically see that the man with Vivian was obviously her son, Doug who visits from Milwaukee.

I was anticipating a fun little chat and it was only as they approached stating that they had been staying with a dead cat on the side of the road that I saw the dead body and felt the sorrow of what had happened. Vivian said he was a beautiful animal with white paws and was obviously loved and well cared for. They had telephoned “Mr. Jenkins” at the phone number on the cat’s tags, and the man was coming. They also called the animal control officer fifteen minutes ago, but as we all understand in Westborough, you have to wait for him to get out of bed. Vivian’s son had a flight to catch, and they were considering moving on, but didn’t want to leave the body alone.

We were a few house lengths away from Mr. Jenkins’ body as we talked and shared animal stories. Vivian had lost a Siamese cat years’ ago that got hit by a truck barreling over the hill, and her family had felt much grief and sadness over the loss. I shared that I understood how very difficult these losses are and shared my experience of my beagle, Penelope who died when I was five years old, struck by a car. As I write this I realize that I shared a pared down version leaving out details of this tragedy and loss in my life. I was probably lucky that I was only five years old at the time and unable to comprehend the depth of the tragedy as I was aware of today.

After five more minutes, the animal control officer arrived. My only experience with the man had been his unwillingness to help with a skunk control problem at our house in downtown Westborough, and then, his willingness to participate in a systemized problem of harassment that my husband and I are having in the neighborhood, threatening to take Lina away from us when a neighbor complained of her peeing in his yard. Here he was today providing a valid service. I turned a moment later to see the cat’s well- dressed owner arrive and cover his face in sorrow as he stepped onto the sidewalk to collect his dear friend laid out there.

Vivian, Doug, Nicole, Lina and I said our goodbyes and I told Doug, Vivian’s son from Milwaukee that his mom, 82 year old Vivian is very proud of him, talks about him a lot, eagerly anticipates his visits and that we always know when he’s coming. Lina and I changed course and crossed Rte. 135 and walked down by where our friend Russ grew up and now rents out his family home. I had never met the tenants there. Across the street, Lina came to an atypical full pointing type of stop when a man pulled into the drive there. Lina was staring, so I looked over and said hello, not recognizing the man who had just collected his cat. He asked me if I was Doug, and I said no as we crossed the street toward him. He said he just got a call from “Doug.”

Then, I recognized him. I could see that he had been crying, I told him I was very sorry for his loss. I remember not knowing what to say, but tried to comfort him anyway. I think he was comforted by Lina for the moment, if anything. He was petting her. I was aware of talk coming through the speaker of his phone, and he said, "I'm stuck on a dumb conference call for work,” as he turned down the volume. I introduced ourselves- “Tom and Lina, both friends of Russ.” His name was Mason. It was then that I learned that his cat was “Mr. Jenkins.” He’d had him for over five years and when he’d moved into Russ’ house, his roommates had an indoor/outdoor cat and he decided that Mr. Jenkins could be the same. That seemed to have gone ok for some time. These unseasonably warm and sunny Spring days must have gotten to him and he ventured out to explore more enthusiastically… Now, Mason had to figure out what to do with him. I suggested he bury him in the yard and plant something on top of him. He thought that sounded like a good idea. We left shaking hands again and I couldn’t help repeating that I was very, very sorry.

Looking back on it, I think Mr. Jenkins was the cat we saw out in the yard over while out on our family walk two days ago, which was Easter Sunday, another unseasonably warm and sunny day. Lina took note of him then too. I think Lina was way ahead of me in understanding all of these events and I’m grateful that she led me over there again today. I know the unfolding of these events are likely to be on my mind for some time to come.