Holli -- Cat in Mourning

Holli (pronounced “Holly”, and actually short for "Holiday") is a large male (neutered) black and white tiger striped cat who came to us some years ago as a very feral kitten. One eye had become damaged and was infected badly. The eye had to be removed. The person who brought him to us paid for the surgery and all shots, etc.

For a long time, Holli was wild. He would let no one touch him except me (only occasionally). He would hide when anyone (including me) came in the door. And he unconditionally loved Anna and Heart.

One day when he was about 2 years old and I was really tired of mopping up his musk oil and wiping down everything he could mark as his territory, I managed to trick him into a cage and brought him for neutering.

Within two weeks, he was docile and purring to get scratched and petted. He came when his name was called. I took to calling him “Holli” rather than “Holiday” because he and Mayday (another large grey cat) both came when they heard “-day” at the end of their names. Plus, I could then introduce one-eyed Holi by saying “This is Holli – that’s “Holli” with an eye (i)”.

Holli loved Anna and Heart. He was like a kitten in front of them – he’d lie on his back and wait to be groomed, he would head-butt them both, he would run to see them when they awoke, he’d follow them around the lounge (he was strictly an indoor cat). He endured their swats and hisses, their disdain when he proved to be too attentive, and when they walked away from them, he would watch carefully then run to one or the other and perform a groveling obeisance as if he worshipped them. I believe he knew they were very old and regarded them both perhaps as his mothers (if it is possible for an animal to feel he has two mothers).

Holli is now six years old, and has known Anna and Heart since before he was one.

When Anna passed away, Holli grieved. At first he spent a long time searching for her then settled down believing he was just outside and would soon return as she always did at night. He finally realized she had not come into the house for several days, and went into mourning. He went from chair to piano to cabinet, looking in, around, under, and behind, trying to find her.

For solace, Holli turned his attention to Heart. He accompanied her wherever she went, sat by her, watched her carefully from across the room, and when she stopped to sit, he was beside her in a second. He waited while she ate before he took a bite, waited patiently for her to drink before he did, and even say outside the litter box until she was done. He paid little attention to the other cats during this time.

Just about the time he seemed to be coping with Anna’s absence, Heart went away. Again, Holli waited for her to return – she never stayed out at night, other than for a few minutes to sniff the air and nibble some grass. But she would not return. He went into near-panic mode and he frantically searched for both of his beloveds, at one point howling in a corner and trying to claw his way through the solid concrete wall...

Their resting places are in sight of the sliding glass patio door but off course he wouldn’t know that, or understand it. They are simply gone. He has several companions to be with, to play and chase with, to sleep among, but his goddesses have departed.

Holli seems to have settled down again, mostly. He still searches for Anna and Heart at least once a day, but stops after about 10 minutes. He makes regular rounds to and from certain points, as if inspecting the lounge in order as found on a checklist. He spends most time on and behind the piano, as Anna’s favorite resting spot was on top of the upright piano, and Heart liked to lie between the piano and the wall, where it was cool and comfortable (and too narrow for most of the other cats to bother her).

When he gets into a howling stage of his search, I call him to me and scratch his ears, pet him, sometimes groom him with his brush. He calms down, but resumes his grieving after a few minutes.

I wanted to share this because many people who don’t share their lives with animals (or don’t pay them enough attention) believe that animals do not feel emotion or loss as humans do.