Editor�s Note

When I moved to Thailand, I had to leave behind lots of friends who were very important to me. It�s not an easy thing to do, but one of the inevitabilities of life is saying goodbye.

One of the most difficult farewells that I had to say was to Madeline. The truth is that she didn�t even realise I was leaving. Whether that made our parting harder or easier for me, I�m not quite sure.

I first met Mattie in the summer of 1991. She was living with six of her brothers and sisters in a house outside of town. I knew as soon as I saw her that she was going to be nothing but trouble.

She ran around the house, bullying her siblings, knocking things over and climbing the drapes. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, and immediately decided that we must live together. Her mom was so overjoyed that she threw in a sandbox, a couple of bowls and some of Mattie�s favourite food as a dowry.

It�s at this point that I should clarify for all you head-scratchers out there that Madeline was a cat. And not just any cat. As our years together passed, I came to realise that I had adopted �The Evilest Cat in the World.� Behind her angelic eyes and pink nose was the mind of a diabolical, bipolar serial killer.

She was prone to attack for no reason, turning abruptly from a bundle of fuzzy, purring love to a hissing, clawing, biting ball of screeching evil. Friends were afraid to come over for fear of being ambushed by Madeline, and I had to be cautious of the flying terror that she could unleash without notice. Even my mother, one of the softest-hearted animal lovers you could ever meet, hated that cat. The feeling was mutual.

Despite all of her flaws, and the many abrasions and lacerations I endured over the years, I loved Mattie. She loved me, too � in her way.

I left Mattie with one of my best friends when I moved here, and she could never have hoped for a more attentive and loving owner. We used to joke that Madeline was too evil to die � she�d go on forever, nourished by the venomous nectar of wickedness and bile. Of course, we were wrong.

This weekend I got an email from my friend, letting me know that Mattie had passed away. Her little body was riddled with cancer, and when the pain medication could no longer keep her comfortable, my friend made the only humane decision he could and took her to the vet to be put down.

Despite her evil, she was a faithful friend and my companion for many years. She had a good life � and a long one.

I don�t know how her last moments were, but I�d like to imagine her in my friend�s arms, going quietly to sleep � with maybe just one more hiss and bite for the road.

Sean Vale
Editor
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