Mr. Ponchie - The Death of a King

There was this big white cat who came to my door one day and wanted food.  He was very polite and would stand back and let all the other cats eat first.  He would not let me approach him at all, but if I stood back away from the door and allowed him freedom, he would run in very quick to eat some food. 

He learned quick that Baby was in charge, so he would go first and kiss her.  He learned quick that if Baby loved you, she would allow you to enter.  So each day Mr. Ponchie would cry for food, kiss baby and run to eat some food I put out for him and then retire to a chair.

I was never allowed to get close to him. Never allowed to pet him, never allowed to massage his massive body.  My landlord even mentioned how tough Mr. Ponchie was.  Mr. Ponchie had been abused by so many people that he would never let anyone to get close.  We adopted many cats and those cats had babies.  Once there yard was filled with cats Mr. Ponchie disappeared.

I always wondered where Mr. Ponchie was.  I moved to another home a few blocks away and one day sure enough, there was Mr. Ponchie.  He started coming to my home everyday for food and then one day I got real brave and I reached down to pet Mr. Ponchie and you know what, he let me.  It had been 2 years since I first saw Mr. Ponchie, but by now he trusted me.  So one day I gently reached down and picked up Mr. Ponchie and he allowed me to hold him just a few seconds, but it was enough to hold him close.

Mr. Ponchie had never known what love was before, but he did now.  I would just get teary eye thinking about Mr. Ponchie and how he never had anyone to love him.  He never knew any comforts of this life.  I also remember the first time Mr. Ponchie came in from the cold weather and discovered how wonderful it was to lay close to a heater.  He would stretch out and just enjoy the heat so much.

He was someone I loved so dear.  He would come a few times a day and cry to come in.  He was the head macho cat outside and a force to be recokned with but in my home he was a pussy cat.  He always knew his place.  We loved him to death.  He got injured a few times and one time someone shot him in the foot, but he recovered.  He always got better.  I always doctored him and he got well.

Then one day he came with a huge injury. It appeared he had an infected eye which I kept doctoring but as I was cleaning the huge amount of pus from his eye, I discovered a huge hole in his head right next to his eye and another injury down in his cheek. The injuries were perfectly round and very very deep.  I tried to take him to the doctor but he absolutely refused to get in the carrier. I had a taxi waiting  but Mr. Ponchie refused. 

I had a vet who was suppose to come to treat him, but he never came either.  Mr. Ponchie would get better and I would feel relieved and then he got much worse.  As much as I tried, I could not get the infection under control.  Then the infection caused Mr. Ponchie to have swollen abscesses in his throat.  He was deadly sick now.  I was scared.

So I plotted on how I could get Mr. Ponchie to the vet.  I trapped him in the bathroom and pushed him in the bag.  He fought back but he was so weak he gave in.  I called the taxi right away and ran him to the vet. By the time we got there Mr Ponchie was so sick, he could not move.  The vet picked him up and placed him in a small carrier to take him upstairs. I just knew they could make Mr. Ponchie well.  I never ever thought he would die.

In that week I had 4 cats injured.  A small kitten died from a horrific fall and then maggots attacked the open sore, then Mr. Ponchie and then Mr. Fluffy had a bad injury to his leg and had to be taken to the hospital.  While I was there, I asked about Mr. Ponchie and they told me he was real bad.  I asked about his chances and they told me 50/50.  But I never thought he would die.

Fate was never in Mr. Ponchie's corner.  They did not operate on Mr. Ponchie for 4 days to take the fluids out of his neck.  During this time Mr. Ponchie refused to eat or drink.  It could have been he was so scared or it could have been he was just too sick. When I took Mr. Fluffy to be treated I debated about visiting Mr. Ponchie but the vet frowned.  I asked him would it be worse on Mr. Ponchie to see me and then not go home and they said yes. I made the fatal mistake of not visiting Mr. Ponchie.

So on Sunday I called to see if they operated and they did, but said he was extremely dehydrated and was in bad shape. The next morning at 8:30am the phone rang and a woman on the other side "cat dead."  She was forceful and awful. I screamed, "What do you mean cat dead?"  I told her I want to speak to the doctor. I told the doctor this is dead wrong for her to say this. She should have said she was sorry to give me the news or something. 

I begin to wonder what kind of treatment Mr. Ponchie got. Was he left to die alone with no help at all? Did they even care about Mr. Ponchie leaving him to suffer for 4 days?  When I took Mr. Ponchie in they were having a party and the doctor did not even want to look.  I assume they just put Mr. Ponchie in a cage and left him.  No one cared about Mr. Ponchie and he died all alone.

I often wondered if I did right and if dying in my arms would have been better.  I honestly did what I thought was best, but in the end my dear sweet Mr. Ponchie left this earth.  People were shocked Mr. Ponchie was gone, but no one really loved him like I did.  He was a white knight that came and left.  He never knew love, just from me.

Mr. Ponchie died on June 10th, the same day as my father and my grandmother.  Another cat I had died on July 10th 2010.  I wonder what it is about the date the 10th.  My world is not the same without Mr. Ponchie.  He was someone I counted on seeing daily. He was the light of my life and someone I have missed so bad.  I hope Mr. Ponchie is happy now and is out of pain.  I hope God tells Mr. Ponchie how much I care.  Mr. Ponchie, mama loves you so much.