Farewell Not; Dear, Sweet Little Figgy
By Richard Mabey Jr.
Little Figaro went Home to Rainbow Bridge this morning. Little Figgy was born on the first of September of 2005. She was about two months shy of her thirteenth birthday. We got Little Figgy in November of 2005, from a young couple in Central Pennsylvania who had turned their home into a rescue sanctuary for a lot of cats and dogs.
Little Figgy had been found in an old garage that had been closed up for some time. The old farmer who found Figgy in the closed garage had no idea how she got in there in the first place. But she was skin and bones. The dear old farmer knew of this couple who rescued dogs and cats and had a reputation of bringing ones who were in poor health, up to par.
When my sister, Patti, and I went to visit this couple, we had all intentions of just getting one cat. My sister fell in love with Lady Bug. The couple had given her another name, but my sister changed her name in just a few days after we got her.
That same afternoon, I saw Little Figgy on the couple’s kitchen floor, in an open box that had some blankets in it for bedding. I remember how Little Figgy looked up to me and meowed. From that moment, I just fell in love with this little tuxedo cat. She was still quite emaciated. Her ribs were still showing in her fur.
I remember picking up Little Figgy from her little cardboard box bed. Little Figgy looked up at me and licked my face. Not just once, but about a dozen times. It was as if Little Figgy was saying to me, “take me home kind man and be my daddy.”
The humanitarian couple had given Little Figgy another name. I just cannot remember what it was. I don’t know what it was, but I just could not put Little Figgy back in that cardboard box. I’m not saying that I just didn’t want to put Little Figgy back in that cardboard box. I know how strange this may sound, but I could not bend my knees. It was as if my knees were locked. I’m very serious about this. I know how strange this sounds.
At any rate, as I was still holding Little Figgy, she once again licked me all over my face. And then put her open claws onto my chest. As if to say to me, “I’m not letting go of you. Take me home with you.”
My sister, Patti, saw how Little Figgy was acting. So, my sister spoke up and asked the kind couple if we could take both cats home with us.
The husband quickly responded, “well normally, we only allow one cat per household.”
Then the wife interrupted her husband and said, “but in this case, I think we can make an exception.”
My sister and I took both, Lady Bug and Little Figgy, home with us that cold, November day, over 12 years ago. It was the start of my wonderful friendship with Little Figgy. I realize now, thinking about dear, sweet Little Figgy. I didn’t adopt Little Figgy. Truly, she adopted me.
I miss her very much. It’s going to be very hard to carry on, without her.