Squeaky Maukat has passed over the rainbow bridge.
Squeaky was a semi-feral cat who was born in my backyard to his feral mother. Squeaky and his mother used to come into my house to eat the cat food of my two house cats, Anubis and Apophis.
I had planned to give him a name from Egyptian mythology, but because of his loud squeaky meow, his name fit.
Squeaky was never a very friendly cat, but he had a lot of personality. He would not let me pet him with my hands, but sometimes he would lie at my feet and I would pet him with my feet, either bare or socked. He and Apophis got along pretty well and would play together, although Anubis didn’t want much to do with him.
Squeaky has not come in the house much in the past year, not since Delight’s puppies started getting mobile and playful. I would see him in the backyard, as in the picture above, just out of reach of the puppies. I could get within a few feet of him, but no closer and no touching.
Sometimes I would see Squeaky in the front yard. He liked to sleep on an old office chair I have in the driveway in front of the garage door. Then a few weeks ago, I saw him lying in the chair, but he looked terrible. He was dirty and beat up looking, and at first, I thought he was dead. I walked up to him and he looked up at me in clear pain. I slowly reached out to him, and he jumped away, not quickly, but too fast for me to catch. Even if I could catch him, I’m not sure what I could have done. He looked terrible and it was obvious that even if he could have been saved, it would likely be expensive, and as a substitute teacher, my life is a month-to-month question as to making my expenses. Plus I have my puppies and other two cats to worry about. It hurt me to see him walk away and I was unable to do anything to help him.
I put food and water on the front porch so that he could eat and drink. I hope it made his last days better, at least a little.
A little while ago, I came home from a low-cost vet clinic where I had taken a couple of my puppies to get their 5-in-one booster vaccines when as I carried them in, I caught a whiff of death. After taking Doras and Brunhilda to the backyard, I went searching through the front yard and I found Squeaky’s body, stretched out under my front window.
Squeaky was never as big a part of my life as the puppers and the other two cats, but he did come inside and did play a role in my life. I don’t know what killed him. He may have been hit by a car, and perhaps I could find out if I examined the body for broken bones. Perhaps he had some sort of disease, which has me wondering if I had simply rented or bought a cat-trap, I could have gotten him vaccinated and he would be alive.
I tend to take a lot of responsibility and guilt upon myself. it’s part of why I spent 15 years as my father’s caregiver. it’s why I spent so much time with my late dog Norman when, at age 18, he finally died as I looked into his eyes. I keep thinking about what I could have done for Squeaky that I didn’t do, and likewise what I could have done for Dad and more.