Rest In Peace Phoenix Pussycat

Did I ever tell you about this time that Phoenix brought me a bunny. It was a gift. Not the most attractive gift because it was dead and bloody on my closet floor.  But a gift just the same.
 
We had gone away overnight and Phoenix got locked in a closet by mistake. When we got home I heard him meowing and let him out. And not ten minutes later, he brought me a bunny.  He placed it on the floor of my closet—my safe and most sacred place as we all know—he placed it there as a gift to me for letting him out. This is how kind and thoughtful he is.
 
First he was Fenix. F-E-N-I-X. This is how this went down. My son had a friend and they played StarCraft together.  All the time. And this friend had a cat. And this cat had kittens. And this kitten, this was this friend’s favorite kitten of the litter. And he named him Fenix—after a character from StarCraft. But he couldn’t keep him. And gifted this now named Fenix kitten to my son.
 
Fenix, the Protoss zealot and praetor (a Protoss rank of the highest standard and prestige) of the Protoss Defense Forces who personally led his fellow warriors into battle against those who called themselves the enemies of the Protoss Empire. Fenix, revered by his warrior-brethren. Fenix, dubbed the Steward of the Templar and one of the most celebrated heroes in Protoss history. Fenix, legendary for his deeds on the battlefield.
 
This is so him.  
 
There was this one time he came into the house with this cut on his head. He was an outdoor/indoor cat. He loved being outside. He used the dog door and went out and in when he wanted. And he once came in with this cut on his head. It was deep. I can imagine what the coyote bobcat bear lion looked like!  This cat, he hunted wild boar. I know it.
 
Did I ever tell you about how he would lie in the middle of the hallway floor while tons of kids would run through our house. He would lie on the cool onyx floor, not a care nor a worry that anyone would step on him. Or that he was in the way. He was never in the way.
 
When he lost his hearing he still heard us. I know this because my son and daughter in law and grandkids came to visit and my son, he sat on our lawn, and asked where Phoenix was. He asked about his cat. And Phoenix, the now non-hearing cat, came running from upstairs and to his boy, who he heard with his heart.
 
While his name was Fenix, I heard Phoenix because I didn’t play StarCraft so didn’t know the other spelling/that that other spelling existed/that that other spelling was his name until it was too late and he was Phoenix to me even though he is still Fenix to my son. Fenix is so a Phoenix. 
 
The Phoenix is a symbol of endurance. The immortal Phoenix never truly dies. He continually rises from the ashes.  Reborn again and again, each time with a deeper and a more profound spiritual awareness.
 
He almost died a ton of times. He has thousands of lives. I know this. He could likely have more. He has grit. Rose grit, my youngest daughter calls it. We all have it.  Phoenix is a Rose. He has this grit, too.
 
But his paws are sore. And his teeth are gone. His hips are weak and he walks tenderly. He is tired. 
 
He told me this the other morning. He, of the still clear eyes and the ability to jump up on the dining table despite his failing body—God his grit is impressive—told me. 
 
I walked into his bedroom—the guest room is his bedroom. It smells like kitty litter and shit. I walked in, and he looked up at me from the drinking fountain that I bought him because he prefers running water, he looked up at me and “I’m tired” dropped into my brain. 
 
I have been waiting for this. For him to tell me he is ready. It’s hard because he is fearless. He says he has mountain lion energy. Sometimes. 
 
And this morning a few mornings ago, he said, “I’m tired.” 
 
Thank you for letting me know, Phoenix.
 
On Friday, we held ceremony. We burnt Sage and Palo Santo. And shared stories that filled us with smiles and remembering. 
 
And we passed him thru the portal with love and intention. He traveled fast. He was tired. His face, old and weathered, became young again and his eyes shone vibrant and clear for just a few moments until opaque and cloudy as he left his body yet lingered still in the room around us.
 
This is the end of an era. We all feel this. This is twenty years of life together. 
 
Thank you for loving us so much and staying with us for so long. You are a light in the life of our family. Rest in Peace, Phoenix Pussycat. We love you so much.