The Boatist

Sailboat Ownership, Translation Work and Tales of Minor Adventure

Retire early, be passionate, don't worry, die poor

Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Best Cat to Have

Our nearly 18-year-old cat, Teca, passed away yesterday. She never went to sea and never even stepped aboard the boat. I had never realized I loved Teca so much.

About three weeks of caring for a sweet cat that I knew would die soon was not easy. We did everything we could, including many visits to the vet. In the last days we gave her food and water with a syringe and held her in the litter box, otherwise she would fall over.
The best cat to have
Ana and Teca about 5 years ago
Teca lived a happy life. She meowed when she wanted one of the very few things she needed to be content: food, water, snuggling up to Ana or me, being let outdoors to sniff the shrubs and chew on some leaves of grass. She also loved to snooze on the bed warmed by the sunshine pouring through the glass door, but she didn't need to ask for that.

It was an emotional time during which I learned nothing I didn't already know. Instead, it reinforced the knowledge I've always had which, simply put, is that we complicate life to the utmost absurdity. Yes, I realize we need more stuff than the average cat to be fulfilled, but not the tons of crap most people in developed countries are becoming so obsessed about.

We are thrashing in a sophisticated toilet awash with shitty gadgets and piss-poor aspirations. When our dreams focus on buying better objects than the ones we already have - say, a car, a smartphone, a huge TV - then it's time to retool our mindset. If you're lucky to be somewhat sane, your duty is to crawl out of the toilet any way you can and start living as a social outcast, a minimalist, an adventurer..whatever you want. Go for a walk, don't just sit there. If you have a disability and can't walk, get a cat and interact with it.

Living on your terms is not an easy sail to paradise, but it sure beats slowly drowning in a collective cesspool. 

Goodbye Teca, thank you for your unvoiced feline wisdom, thank you for reminding me that, although I've crawled out of the cesspool many times, somehow I keep slipping back in.

I've made my decision, throw me a lifeline please.


  1. Here, catch! But then again, I might pull you into my adjacent bowl.

    Sorry about Teca. I had the same story 10 years ago with my main man Alpha. He was 7 yr when I dragged him with me back to Gr. and had a ball for another 10yr. Always meowing at the door as I unlocked it at all uncoceivable hours. A true partner though the thick and thin. The only soul I'd let see me cry. Even though felines aren't much for swimming, old Alpha did just fine beating close hauled though the cesspools dragging my ass behind. He's resting now next to a dog named Tarzan at a friends backyard... probably sipping T&T's and toking katnip... he's favorite.
    Chin up M8 and raise you glass (or bottle) Here's to the memory of Teca.

    1. Couldn't stop laughing after reading your first line. Hey, your bowl looks pretty didn't buy into the advertising hype, you got a sailboat instead of a fancy car and, best of all, you're a boat slave, in other words, a member of the "economically-challenged misfit dreamer's club".