Rufus McGee

When I first started dating Matt there was another Man of the house. His name was Rufus McGee. Matt had gotten this little scrappy Siamese cat, with a crooked tail and they were buds. That cat ruled the house until I moved in. Because it was a party house, the back door was always open where people were coming and going. Rufus included. Rufus was not happy when I moved in. 

He hated me, and quite frankly I wasn’t a fan of his either.

Now, remember when I first moved in it wasn’t two weeks later that I found out that I was preganant. My sense of smell was amplified and I swore I could smell cat pee everywhere. I couldn’t figure it out. Until I started finding odd wet spots on my KITCHEN COUNTERS. Now, my kitchen counters were a wonderful yellow color. So I couldn’t be sure. But then I found that little butt doing his business right there one night.

He quickly became an outside cat. He wasn’t happy with that AT ALL. He got so mad that Matt wouldn’t let him in, that while Matt was working on his cars, Rufus would prance up to him, and spray him with pee. 

I tell this story of Rufus the twisted Siamese for a specific reason so stay with me. This little kitty later teaches me a tough lesson. And caused me one of the hardest single mom things Ive had to do. He caused me to have a full on breakdown in my back yard. 

As Matt and I moved, Rufus always followed. A small part of me always wished he would run away. In one of our houses it was really cold, and Matt would let him in, because he was convinced that Rufus had outgrown his ways. He hadn’t. In fact, he still held a grudge against me, and was pissing in the cups of my bras. only for me to go home and change shirts and realize at the end of the day the smell I was smelling all day was actually the bra, not the pants or the shirt.

And then Matt got arrested, and I had to tend to Rufus. Now, even though I hated this cat, I still wasn’t going to do him harm. I fed and watered the monster. And when me and the kids moved in my with mom, I brought him with. Again, small part of me hoped he would run away. Especially since we were all the way out in Caldwell. I would never purposefully get rid of him, because it wasn’t his fault his owner was a piece of shit. 

He still had to abide by the same rules. He wasn’t aloud in the house.(even though he would try relentlessly to go in. And little Ryan loves animals so much that he would even sneak him in his room much to my displeasure.) But he quickly became the general of the house. He would guard us all by sitting on the front bench. When we all got home he would happily meow and purr and rub against our legs saying welcome. He had little notches and holes in this ears, and probably fleas. He would bring us headless birds, mice, and rats. He would be so proud of the presents he left us. 

I remember there was this one day he got into a fight with another animal. He had a really bad open wound about the size of a silver dollar. It really grossed me out, and this was definitely something that I would of had Matt take care of. But, there was no  Matt. Only Brianna, and two little kids worried about their kitty. So I gathered my hydrogen peroxide, a towel, some paper towels and prayer. I knew this was going to end in my blood. But much to my surprise, he purred the entire time. He held still, and let me clean his wound. When I was done he leaned next to me with his eyes closed. I knew at that exact moment that he was my buddy. Matt was his dad, and just like my little human kids he was abandoned too. 

This continued on for a few years, and even my mom who isn’t the biggest fan of cats loved Rufus. He watched over our house. One morning in the summer as my mom was leaving for work I could hear her saying “Oh Rufus, you silly kitty.” But he didn’t move. She called me out front with her, and there he was. Snuggled up against her hippie lavender plant, dead. I was devastated. How did he die? He never acted sick, and he wasn’t injured. I was running late for work, and couldn’t bear to send the kids to school and daycare with this news. I grabbed some towels, and wrapped him up in a box and placed him on the side of the house where I could figure this all out later. 

My day was a blur. How was I going to tell my kids their kitty had died? Who was going to explain about death? Who was going to dig the hole?

Oh yeah. Me. Alone.

I sat Ryan and Lilly down when I got home and explained that Rufus had passed away. Lilly was sad, but didn’t quite grasp the concept. But Poor little Ryans eyed welled up with big tears. He wanted to see him. After explaining everything to the kids, and wiping their sad eyes, I had to go outback, and find a space to make a grave. I dug under our picture window and bawled. I shouldn’t have to do this alone. If I had a partner, I could be consoling my kids while the other dug this hole. Instead I dug harder. I was having to bury my little friend, and I wish he had been my friend sooner. I wish this little kitty knew how much he meant to me. But I realized how much I meant to him. 

He knew I never liked him. But he knew the second I would never abandon him. He knew I loved him back, and I know that when I made his little outdoor kitty house with a warming pad, that I was smitten with that little brown kitty. It broke my heart that I was having to bury this little animal alone. And It hit me so hard, that this was just one of the many hard things I was going to have to do alone, and that’s what upset me more than anything. But also made me realize I knew I could do anything.