Sir Nigel And The Price Of Too Much Freedom
Of our four cats, Nigel was held the dearest. Affectionate and gregarious, he would seek us out and demand our undivided attention.
He and Maude worked our their own strategy for wrestling. First, one would crouch as the other prepared to attack. Then after a bit of high-spirited biting, scratching, and scuffling, they would exchange roles and make another foray.
Endowed with the most striking colors and the fluffiest elegant fur, Nigel was easily the most beautiful cat we have ever seen. He inspired our creativity, and we began to invent endearing rhymes about him and his unusual appearance: Nigel Pygel, fluffy cat, like a lady's Sunday hat.
But Nigel had a leaning--actually more of a yearning--which I feared from the very beginning would be harmful to him. He would beg to go outside, and we would eventually succumb to his pleadings. Once out, he would run with abandon around the yard, fluffy fur flowing in wind. The busy street never got a cautionary glance as he exercised his freedom.
And thus it was on a dark evening not long ago that our son Barrett went to hail Nigel in for the night, but he didn't come. A search ensued, ending across the street where Nigel lay dead. His carefree attitude had brought him to destruction.
We gathered him home as carefully as possible. Barrett buried him the next morning after I had gone to work, assuming the unpleasant duty that had always been mine before. Laying a beloved pet to rest is not easy.
Nigel was only a little kitty, but I have missed him greatly. Maude, his ever-present companion, has grieved for him, too. She sniffs at places where he had been, searching for the playmate her nose tells her can't be far away.
On our respective journeys through life, we lose many important things. We lose health and physical capabilities. We lose parents, friends, and family. We lose possessions and positions. Compared to these major crises, the Nigel's death is not that significant. But the sudden removal of anything near and dear requires an adjustment.
As always, life goes on, and we do adjust. While with us, Nigel brought pleasure and enjoyment. His sudden demise brings a sober reminder. We might all want to be free of constraint, to fly with the wind, to do as we please. But danger crouches for the naïve, ready spring when they least expect. There is some safety in our limitations; there is a price to pay for too much freedom.
But in moments of whimsy I still see those two low-slung racers hugging the floor as they careen at breakneck speed. Nigel Pygel, fluffy cat....
Copyright 2001 James McAlister
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