Pagan, Princess of Palmer Place
(1984-2006)
My grandfather Randall, an 81-year-old staunch Republican and barely-retired attorney, is one of the most natural and nurturing animal-lovers I’ve ever known. Like me (and likely I learned or inherited this from him), he feels no compulsion to kill insects and is rather compelled to love all creatures. From his animal-loving perspective, he wrote a very detailed and in-depth eulogy for his cat of twenty-two years, Pagan. Anyone who understands the beauty and intelligence of non-human lives should find this story very true to their hearts.
In a very difficult year for my grandfather and the rest of us Palmers, the unexpected death of my grandmother Shirley, his wife of --- years, followed Pagan’s death by a few months.
See the eulogy I wrote for Shirley, which I read at her funeral service: (include link here to here eulogy page).
The year 1984 was important not only for the famous book named after it, but more so for two kittens who entered the life of the Palmer household that year. Two endearing creatures were gifts to the wife from her grown children, although not really greeted with open arms for what they meant in terms of attention and time. We had no relationship with them so at our age why be burdened again with taking cage of two demanding animals, not exceedingly welcome?
Ours had been a cat house for years. At the time the two kittens came, we had lost our beautiful long-haired calico Persian, Tinker, just earlier. But no way could we turn down these kittens the kids bought her. They had maneuvered her into keeping this couple of real cuties.
One was the most handsome little tyke, having soft silver-gray fur, a full-blooded Persian. He was the runt of the litter and although that made him noticeable, he unfortunately had a genetic defect we learned about somewhat later. They purchased him from a family who lived at 33rd and Savage St. so we named him Savage, the very antithesis of who he was or would ever become. He was quiet and reserved to a fault, just very pretty to look at and admire. He wasn’t the least bit cuddly or affectionate, but I believe he didn’t feel well to be held most of the time.
The other kitten was this scrubby little scrawny scamp that was as independent and ornery as though she was the most awesome tiger alive. She was a long-haired tortoise-shell mix Persian. She was unnoticeable, especially in contrast to Savage, except for her superior attitude, which by her actions said if you ignored obvious high quality, it was your misfortune.
What to name her in relation to a Savage? Our daughter, a licensed lay religions leader, said Pagan would be a name that would compliment Savage, and so she became Pagan, a name that as the years went by fit her to a tee. Now she may have been a Christian for all we know, but she acted more like a Greek Goddess. Pagan seemed to worry not a wit about whether anyone compared her appearance favorably with Savage, as she knew who mattered most when push came to shove. A born leader, she fully exemplified it. Pagan had brains, character, personality, a highly-superior attitude that carried her a long, long way. You could call her a “dumb animal” but she made sure you couldn’t prove it.
These two kittens had been born the same day but obviously not from the same litter, nor same parentage. Pagan was purchased for a song from a pet store and had no breeding or culture, just a Plain-Jane slob. Savage adored Pagan and she him. They became inseparable buddies and if she said, “jump,” he said, “how high?” They seemed to discern that they were in this thing together and it would be up to them to handle it as best they could. Savage depended entirely upon her. Probably Pagan was a mother figure for him and this seemed to satisfy some of her needs as well. A leader needs an army and he was it, albeit skimpy on troops.
On one occasion when Pagan was about a year old she wandered away to a really tall tree in our neighbor’s yard. We couldn’t find her anywhere and didn’t see her up there for two days. Savage cried all night, mournfully, and we were frantic. Finally early the next morning my wife went out again looking for her and barely heard this pitiful little cry way up in the tree. So you know who got the really long extension ladder and climbed to the very top run, hardly able to reach her, and she, being afraid, didn’t want to trust this Nervous-Nelly rescuer, extended to the max. Finally did grab her front leg and got her down. She always pushed the envelope, but never again quite so adventurously. She thought up the pranks, but made Savage do them thereafter.
As mentioned, Savage had genetic defects in his make-up When we took them to be neutered the vet said he wouldn’t likely live beyond five years and he died about age four. Pagan mourned terribly and you had to mourn with her and have compassion for what she suffered It made us all sad, depressed, dejected, and melancholy.
Thereafter she searched for a companion in an almost relentless fashion. She just simply needed someone to boss around and preferred her own species to us mere humans. Oh she expected us to “jump” as well, however we were simply extra recruits to her main prey: the army of cats, dogs, or other animal creatures who made up her menagerie of followers. As for other creatures, we will get to that in just a moment.
Most people today know animals are not “dumb animals” as they were called in the past. Perhaps the initial reason for referring to them in that way was simply to indicate they couldn’t speak our languages. However, it was so widely said and accepted that they actually were thought to be “dumb bunnies” as the term is used. In fact, most of them are as smart as, or even smarter than, an awfully lot of humans and certainly on average more trustworthy, loyal, and loving. They don’t need to speak as we do because you quickly learn to peak their language and cater to their needs if you are really an animal person. Some mistreat them, most do not. Think how hard and cruel it was for folks in Katrina to have to leave their pets.
This tale now becomes a story of how Pagan gores on to become a beautiful and stunning lady of high breeding and outstanding character as she matures, mostly alone, as the cat of our lives for a total of twenty-tow years. That’s the equivalent of about 107 human years.
As noted, however, she didn’t give up easily on seeking another companion after Savage was gone, early in her life. First, about five years after he was gone, a big lanky gray and white short-haired stray, or what we thought to be just a stray, started hanging around. How long he had been hanging around we don’t now but when we finally saw him he was sharing Pagan’s food, with her apparent welcome. She had decided he was her friend and she wanted him to stay. He was clean and seemed well groomed. As we showed friendliness he gradually came closer to eat while we were around. Finally one day the kitchen door was open for a time while he ate and as he finished he walked in and shortly made himself at home. Thereafter he became a semi-house cat and Pagan was delighted with her good friend. He didn’t unfortunately last over about six more years and contracted feline leukemia and had to be put down.
Again she mourned and we with her but her luck with friends just never held out for long. The only other creature Pagan befriended but never had as a companion was a possum. One day my wife opened the door and was surprised out of her wits to see Pagan and this beady-eyed possum sitting calmly by her dish just like boon companions. Again, how long it had been sharing her food dish we do not know but it really skedaddled. So far as we know, that was the last of it at our house and the last of her befriending any more buddies the remainder of her life.
Pagan loved life, her friends and relatives, and pretty much all other creatures as well so long as they were companionable. She was patient, persistent, generous, and friendly giving herself fully in love, loyalty, and grace. If you were in her orbit for just a minute, you paid attention to her and she quickly won you over so as to receive the full consideration and attention she knew she deserved. May Pagan evermore rest in peace and tranquility.
Amen.
---Randall Palmer
