Goodbye Midnight

1.

The first time I hung out with my friend Jon Bendas, was during the Philadelphia 76ers playoff run in 2001. Jon came in, sat down on the couch and we began to watch the game. I overheard him mention something about a cat and before I had the chance to warn him, he exclaimed: "The (expletive deleted) bit me!" Jon and I remain good friends despite some political differences. Perhaps Midnight was attempting to warn me...

2.

I don't really remember the girl's name but I know she was a friend of my buddy Eric. He brought her to my house one evening and as a cat lover, she rejoiced when she saw Midnight. He was a big cat, black as the back end of a cave and with two huge gold eyes that can only be described as nearly human. I warned her not to pet him. Despite his beautiful appearance, Midnight had a real temperament about him. he even bit a priest once. All of a sudden, the house filled with shrieks and the girl ran past me headed towards the bathroom. I followed and heard her exclaim "The (expletive deleted) bit me!"

3.

I was in the sixth grade. My mother was running the vacuum when the doorbell rang. As quickly as the door was opened a black blur came running past. I knelt down and looked under the coffee table to see two gold eyes staring back at me. It was a cat. My mother shut the door and turned the vacuum back on. The cat darted out from under the table and headed upstairs. Shortly thereafter, we named him Midnight. he was my first pet.

4,

Midnight was missing for a week. With the time he spent outside we had figured him for dead or lost. It turned out to be otherwise. I heard my neighbor,standing in the yard next door, claiming she had conjured "the evil" in her basement. She could it hear it howling. As a practitioner of Wicca, I imagine she thought this was a bloodcurdling success. I ran outside and told her she had to open up the cellar door. After much protest, she opened the door and out of it, Midnight came flying. She screamed "It's the evil! It's the evil!" I told her it was my cat.
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My cell phone rang around 9PM last night. It was my mother. Before I could say hello, she told me that Midnight was dead. I went downstairs, and next to the washer, in the bathroom was his body. It was strange to see such stillness from a cat that never had a still moment in his life. He survived being hit by a car, being locked in the neighbor's basement for a week, he survived almost everything.

Midnight grew up with me. He followed me around often, even in his last old, sad, and increasing hobbled days. He was always a feral cat and his eyes were filled with a real wildness. He would spend nights outside and oftentimes leave me stumbling around my neighbors yards at 2AM in the summer with a bag of food and a flashlight trying to get him home.

My father and I dug a hole and buried my cat. This is the third cat I have buried but the only cat I've ever buried that felt like a friend. Yes, Midnight was a mean cat. He was mean because he never lost his sense of wildness. I envy him for that.

John Bennett never thought he could die, I don't think Gerry did either. Liz and Matt called him Doom Kitty and Matt would run from the sight of him. Midnight used to love begging table scraps and did so at claw-point very often. Matt was particularly bothered by it. He would claw the ankles of friends for no reason as they passed, he would hiss at our other cats unprovoked, he would sit on your lap long enough to lull you into security and leave you saying

"He bit me"

I loved him for it. He was a great animal, and a friend. I'll miss you buddy. I imagine it will take me awhile to stop checking for you while I am eating.

Goodbye Midnight.