She was called Bebo, Cuke, Kuker, Kooky Baba, Kidgy Cuke, and Kitch by our daughters. But our cat was officially named Cutip. The girls were so inspired by Cutip that they personified her in a cartoon character. Clearly, Cutip did not say such things as the comments made by the cartoon character but somehow we understood that if Cutip were to walk and speak that she’d have a snarky, sardonic and smug attitude. Is it because Cutip always seemed a bit annoyed and looked down on us? That didn’t matter to us. She was that quintessential cat who acted as if she owned us. She was our nineteen year old Calico cat. With beautiful patterning of gold, white and black in all the right places, she was a true beauty.

As we were nearing our departure date for our cruising adventure back in 2015, many asked us, “So, what are you going to do with your cat?” They obviously saw the impracticality of having a cat on board with the litter box, lack of space and having to deal with another living being on a boat. By the way, we made it work and it was more of a benefit than hassle. No one came forward to care for her so the decision was simple; she was coming with us. Jeff initially wasn’t a fan of the idea but he knew she was so much part of our family that we could not leave her behind with just anyone. Besides, I had known her longer than anyone in our family. Cutip allowed me to practice mothering her before my human babies came along.

Her humble beginning started nineteen years ago when my brother bought her at Soulard Market near St.Louis, MO. As the feistiest of the bunch, she was purchased for $8. From then on she was one of my biggest loves in my life. Those with dearly loved pets know that your pet becomes your hero when the world and everyone you know seem to be against you. Coming home to your beloved animal is always comforting because they seem to love you almost unconditionally. For cats that’s somewhat true. They love you as long as you feed them.

Whenever people visited our house or boat and wanted to pet Cutip, I usually warned them that they had about 3 seconds before she may bite. Her tolerance for human affection was quite short. But, she was a cat with attitude.

Cutip had covered quite a distance in her life. Starting from MO, IL, traveling across the country to spend most of the years in WA, sailing down the west coast of US, and finally cruising in Mexico. The best place she lived in was probably back at our house in WA. In front of our house was a huge grass field with all kinds of creatures. Many mornings in summer, I was often chagrined to find a massacre of mice, birds or baby bunnies at the front door step. A mighty Hunter, she was so proud of her victories. I also remember when we would take our evening walks, she would follow us for a block then she’d disappear into the grass fields. Whenever she was late getting inside for the night, I’d either whistle or call her name in the highest pitch possible. She’d usually hear the high pitched sounds and come jingling her bell back home. Soon, I was able to get Jeff to call her in the high pitched screech, “Cutiiiip!”

Then our girls came. Sophia recalls being scared of Cutip after she bit her whole hand, her tiny toddler hand. Whenever I nursed Anna, Cutip used to sit on my lap to keep us all company, especially to remind me not to forget my true eldest baby.

I think pet owners are aware of familiar sounds their pets make. I miss those sounds that Cutip made moving around, eating, drinking, meowing, jumping up and down places, and on and on. The boat is the hardest place for me to be lately. She has filled every corner, every seat, and every through way with memories of her.

As I move about the boat, it feels as if she’d come out behind a chair, a door or I’d see her in one of the seating areas. But those places are now empty. Perhaps her presence felt so big to us because she was usually in the place where it was the busiest, in front of her food bowl, next to the garbage and on the path to the galley. She didn’t care if we’d fall over her or she was in the way. She took her claim on this boat like she did with our hearts. We miss her terribly but her passing was better for her aging body. She was arthritic, developing a kidney problem, and ultimately her impacted stomach was the acute failure, prohibiting her from eating or drinking, that resulted in her demise. She was barely bones in a sack of fur. We administered laxatives, fluid injections, and liquid gravy squirts. With her nausea she was losing muscle mass so fast we couldn’t keep up. I got mad at her at one point because she didn’t seem to be trying to get better. That sounds so ridiculous now but the vet in La Cruz said that he would not have recommended surgery for her impaction due to her age and the operation may inflict more pain without much improvement.

This loss was especially hard for my youngest since Cutip became her “comfort” animal. Whenever Sophia was scolded, she’d cry into Cutip’s fur. It’s going to be interesting how Sophia grows up from this experience.

Cutip, you are such a big part of our lives and we are so blessed to have had these wonderful 19 years with you. Rest your tired “gubbers”.

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