God made the cat in order that man might have the pleasure of caressing the tiger.
~Joseph Méry
My husband and I had been married for about two years when Nekko came into our lives. The first time I saw him, I was visiting friends when I spotted a small, black-and-gray cat stuck in a tree. I climbed the tree partway and managed to coax the cat down. It jumped to the ground and ran off when a stranger approached to ask why I was in a tree.
The next time I went to visit my friends, I found the same little cat being tormented by three men who were trying to tie firecrackers to its tail. I yelled for them to stop, but I’m a very small woman and not very intimidating, so they just laughed and ignored me. I ran to my friend’s house and got her husband Charles, who is a very, very large man. Charles chased off the men, but we were unable to catch the cat. It had run off.
I told my husband about the small cat and its plight, and how it was obviously a stray and in need of a home. My husband and I already had one cat, and he said if I saw the little cat again, it was fine with him if I brought it home. When I went to visit my friends again, I was prepared. I brought a cat carrier and a can of tuna, and it was good I did, because I saw the little thing again. It walked right over to the tuna and didn’t protest at all when I picked it up and put it in the carrier.
When we got home, I gave it a bath. The cat was covered in grease and mud, and I didn’t want to risk bringing fleas into my house. I quickly discovered that the cat was a female, and rather than being black and gray, she was a lovely black and white. She purred loudly as I washed the filth from her fur, never protesting or trying to get out of the bath. It was as if she knew I was trying to help her, and she wanted to be clean.
While I was washing her, my husband asked what we should call her, and he began proposing names. He was studying Japanese at the time and suggested we call her Nekko, which is Japanese for cat (“neko”). I asked the cat if that was all right with her, and she seemed to purr louder, so Nekko it was.
A few days later, I took her to the vet for a check-up and to be fixed and get her shots. The vet guessed she was about two years old, and she was pretty healthy despite living on the streets.
Nekko soon became a very loving and affectionate cat. She’d greet me at the door whenever I came home from work and always loved to jump up on my lap while I watched television.
Several months later, we were visiting my father-in-law at his assisted-living center, and I saw a sign saying the center was starting a pet-visiting program. I spoke to the nurse in charge of my father-in-law and asked if I could bring Nekko for a visit. The nurse said Nekko could come if she was clean and well behaved. I began training Nekko to sit and walk while wearing a body harness and leash. As always, she was very calm and willing to please. In a matter of days, she was leash-trained.
I began bringing Nekko with us whenever we went to visit my father-in-law, and she soon became very popular with the residents at the home. She would walk down the corridor and let strangers pick her up and pat her. She would also sit on their laps if they wished.
During one visit, my father-in-law’s nurse brought in a nurse from another floor and introduced her to me. She was a hospice nurse and had a patient, an elderly lady, who they didn’t think would make it through the night. The hospice nurse explained that her patient was alone and had no family. She had been asking to see and pet a cat just one more time. The hospice nurse explained that her patient had owned many cats and had to give them all up when she entered the center. The lady had told the nurse that if she could pet a cat just one more time, she could die happy. The nurse asked if I would mind bringing Nekko to the lady’s room and let Nekko stay with the woman. I agreed. I picked up Nekko and followed the hospice nurse to the room of a very old and frail woman named Martha.
Martha looked up as we entered, and upon seeing Nekko, she broke into a smile. I walked up to Martha’s bed and introduced Nekko, then put Nekko on the bed and tied the end of the leash to the bedrail. I told Nekko to stay and be a good cat. Nekko immediately walked onto Martha’s chest and knelt down facing her. Martha began patting Nekko and talking to her, and Nekko began to purr very loudly. I stayed for several minutes to be sure Nekko was behaving and then left to go back to my husband and father-in-law, with a promise from the hospice nurse that she’d return Nekko to me.
Two hours later, the nurse still hadn’t returned with Nekko, and I was wondering how I could politely retrieve her. Suddenly, the hospice nurse appeared holding Nekko and crying, accompanied by my father-in-law’s nurse and another nurse. The hospice nurse said that Martha had passed a few minutes earlier, but she’d died smiling. The hospice nurse went on to say that she’d left Nekko with Martha while she’d gone to check on other patients, stopping in every few minutes to check on them both. The nurse said that every time she stopped in, Nekko was loudly purring and looking into Martha’s face.
The nurse had then been tied up with another patient longer than she’d intended, and a good thirty minutes had passed before she could return to Martha. When she’d gone back to check on Martha the last time, she’d found Nekko sitting upright at the foot of the bed and mewing softly. The nurse went to check on Martha and discovered that she’d passed. The hospice nurse said that Nekko was surely a little angel for she’d sat perfectly still and purred nonstop for Martha, making Martha’s last hours on earth very happy.
The nurses all thanked me for bringing Nekko and said that she was welcome back any time. Nekko continued to accompany us to the center, and brought smiles and laughter to the residents every time.
~Leslee Kahler
