When my faithful feline companion of over 13 years passed away recently, I couldn’t stay silent. I just had to acknowledge his life, his death, and my deep love for my special cat. The first thing I thought of was to write an obituary for him. While words can’t express how much Captain meant to me, and how deep I felt his loss, it was all I could do to share his story with the world.
I wrote two versions. The first was just a Facebook post for family and friends. But it didn’t feel like enough. A shorter version was then shared and posted with my former local newspaper.
The First Version
Captain, a cat with sass and an old-man at heart even as a young lad, passed away on Sunday, December 15, 2019, from kidney failure.
He was probably born somewhere in the Minnesota-North Dakota region in the early 2000s. His first few years of life are a bit of a mystery, but his journey lead him to a Humane Society and a little box in the Fargo PetSmart where his soon-to-be-mom fell in love with the feline who pawed at her from his window and leapt out for their first meeting. And so he went home with two college gals needing the company of a cat in their first apartment.
For the past 13-plus years, Captain brought much joy to his mother’s life—and only a little bit of stress like when he ate one pet fish, and later when his health was beginning to decline.
Captain was the cutest, most regal grump you could meet. He would often literally turn his back to you with displeasure for a multitude of reasons ranging from a late meal feeding to leaving too long on vacation.
He was intelligent. Without fail, he would stand at the ready moments before his 10 p.m. auto feeder dispersed his evening snack. His bathroom habits were immaculate, and he was a tidy boy.
Many were impressed with his voracious appetite. Treats were devoured with tenacity. Captain had a special affinity for cheese, and would run from any corner of the house at simply the sound of a bag of shreds coming out of the fridge. He was clever and cunning too, sometimes swiping food from people’s hands if they looked away for one moment.
Captain didn’t fancy toys much, but he sure did like catnip. Yeeoow! bananas were sure to be licked, loved, and kicked to death.
He practiced regular cardboard scratching, couch lounging, and sunning. He loved watching people on the toilet and rubbing on their legs for pets. Chin scratches were his favorite.
Captain was an inquisitive soul, and he showed no fear. He explored new environments with curiosity and on occasion escaped out an open door. One day he even ran through the MSUM campus when he was illegally brought into the CMU for production night of the school newspaper, in which he was a star mascot – Captain Advo. More recently, he was a champ on a two-day drive to Denver, where his home has been for the last six months.
Every adventure came with even more naps though. He was never far from the couch or bed and often provided morning snuggles. It was a true treat when he chose your lap on which to lay.
This handsome boy will be sorely missed, and never forgotten.
Captain is survived by his adoptive mother Amanda (and Dick), his sister Little Girl, and loads of others who gave him pets and love throughout the years. He is preceded in death by his canine brother Brick.
Please consider donating to your local humane society or cat rescue group in Captain’s honor so more special pets can find their forever homes.
Rest in peace, sweet Captain.
The Forum obit