Mr. Mini Marshmallow Monty
Thirteen years and a month or so ago, my mom and I saw a sign with someone selling some kittens they had rescued and fixed. The lady said she found Monty and his siblings in a box in a parking lot, if I remember correctly, and she had a big enough heart to take them in and fix them and give them shots.
I remember he had a brother who was more social and curious and his ear was a little frayed. I don’t remember how many there were, but I noticed one who was hiding and had run around the garage. I saw this black cat with two “mini marshmallows” on his face and I didn’t care that he was shy I just knew I wanted him and we wanted to get a cat. So my mom paid the fee for him and we went in the car and I was in the backseat trying to keep him from hiding under my mom’s feet.
I don’t remember how he was like the day we brought him home, but I remember thinking a lot about what we would name him. I don’t remember if my dad or siblings had a say, but my mom talked me into Monty, based on the township we got him in. I wanted to name him “Marshmallow” or keep the name on his paperwork: “Mini Marshmallow”. I’m glad we didn’t do that, because I still use the email I made when I was that age and it hasn’t gotten less awkward to say out loud in front of real human beings. I think it’s only gotten more because I’m an adult now.
He’s had many nicknames:
Mr. Monty, Mr. Squishy, Cuddle Bug (because he loved to cuddle with me all the time), Mr. Kitty, that one name we used to give him that I honestly can’t spell because I don’t recall how it was spelled but it was fancy and sounded kinda French maybe, mini marshmallow Monty, etc.
I was his human for the last 13 years. He spent the most time with me, especially over the last year or so. I would come home from work or I go about my day and go to bed and he was almost always on my bed already and waiting for me. My dad always told me my cat missed me when I would go on vacation, and usually that was evident because Monty would let my dad pet him. I’d come home and look for him because I wanted him to know I was home, and I’d usually find him in my room or the basement.
Monty loved to lick my empty dishes when I had eaten anything tasty to him, like mac and cheese or ice cream. He loved treats and wet food and catnip. One year I got the cats some toys and sprayed the wrapping paper with catnip spray and he tore it apart. He loved balled up paper and there was a time when I could throw it down the living room stairs and he’d chase after it and sometimes carry it back upstairs to me to throw it again. Usually I had to go down and get it or crumple up more paper. He was a big fan of milk rings, too.
He liked to cuddle. He was a lap cat. I’d often have to balance him and my laptop (I haven’t had a laptop in years), and when I’m awake in my room and sitting he loved to climb into my lap. He did it this morning, for the very last time. Last night he laid on top of me like he did almost every night, but it was for the last time.
Taking him to the vet and putting him down was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. But he was sick and miserable and I knew it, and there was nothing the doctor could do for him. He had cancer and it had gotten so bad that it took out his eye, made half his face swell up, and was starting to spread into his shoulders.
I miss him so much and I just wanted to talk about him.