This winter I had to say goodbye to my long time friend Albert the cat. I first met Al on an early spring day. I went to the Early Learning Center Nursery School to drop off my son Daniel. (Boy does time go by...this fall I'll be dropping Daniel off at Boston University!) One of the mothers was standing there with a clothes basket full of a litter of adorable kittens. All the kids were ogling the kittens and asking their parents if they could have "just one". I had opened Mid Hudson Animal Hospital in the previous fall and all winter during those slow, snowy days it got quite lonely in the office. Lori (my receptionist) and I came to the conclusion that winter (while we constructed the walls and set up the rest of the hospital) that we really needed a cat to live at the hospital to make it feel more like home. When I saw that orange puff ball I knew that he was the "one".
Albert immediately made himself at home on top of our brand new IBM PC. The monitor top was flat...and warm and Al found it to be the perfect home. Al became our new client greeter. Everyone said hello to him as he perched himself on the monitor and peeked over the reception counter. He thrived on the attention, cozying up to people who wouldn't even think of having a cat as a pet. Everyone in the shopping center got to know him. People who had no business at our hospital would stop to say hello and pet Al. We've even had people stop in to pet Al, saying that they were on vacation and missed their cat so much they just had to pet a cat.
Albert quickly learned about dogs; that he could walk up to the craziest of dogs and because he didn't run away the dog would be bewildered as to what to do. He would also sit on the counter and pop the occasional dog on the head who jumped up too close for a visit. The office was his and we and all our clients were his family.
We soon discovered some of his peculularities. Albert had a box fetish. No matter how small a box that was brought into the office, he would try to squeeze into it. We'd unpack supplies, restock inventory and when we went to haul a box out to the trash would notice that it seemed pretty heavy for an empty box. Digging through the packing material would reveal Albert, deeply asleep at the bottom of the box. Albert was also a food hog. If you brought your lunch into the office you had to put it in the refrigerator; leaving it on the desk until you were ready to eat it meant you would share. Soon Albert developed a weight problem. Sherry, our technician sure didn't help by giving him all the extra McDonalds creamers that she could get her hands on. He would wait around for her to open one and stick that little tongue into the tiny container to lap out every last drop of cream.
Albert was put on a diet. We sell Prescription Diet. Product doesn't last too long when you have a dieting cat living in the hospital. Ok , so he was on a diet; why did he have to chew open a bag of C/D, eat a little, chew a bag of K/D, eat a little and then go on to other bags? Wouldn't one have been enough? Albert's diet continued and our bags of Prescription Diet found their way into a locked closet.
Albert would keep everyone company in the hospital. He had a way of just looking right through you into your heart. When I was alone in the office waiting for an emergency to come in he would hop onto my lap, start purring and make himself right at home. The wait for the client went by quickly with Al on my lap. He'd suprise us ocassionally by leaping from the computer and landing on your chest with his front legs draped over your shoulders saying "hug me".
Al was known far and wide. I'd meet people in other parts of the county. After telling them I was a veterinarian they'd ask where I worked. Even though they didn't know the name of the hospital they'd say, "Is that the place with the chubby orange cat in the window?" When my partner Dr. Quattro and I were at the Poughkeepsie planning board to get approval for Arlington Animal Hospital we were asked about smells and noise generated by an animal hospital. I stated that I owned another hospital in Hyde Park, in a shopping center no less and that we never got complaints of either smells or noise from neighboring stores. The planning board secretary jumped up and said "That's the hospital with the cute orange cat in the window; I never have heard noise or smelled animal smells when I go into the video store next door". The members of the planning board turned to each other and said "Approved". Albert got a special meal that night!
In 1995 Albert developed a tumor on his back. I removed as much as I could but I knew, because parts of the tumor were wrapped around Al's spine, I could not get it all our. The biopsy came back as a malignant fibrosarcoma. I treated Al with chemotherapy and for a year the tumor didn't grow. Then, slowly it got bigger again. I removed all I could again and Al healed and was back to normal quickly. A few months later it was growing again. I again removed as much as I could and Albert slowly came back to normal. We noticed that he just wasn't himself for quite a while. He was reluctant to jump and didn't seem to have as much fun messing with the dogs' minds and hasseling the cats that came to visit. As the tumor grew I removed it a fourth time. Albert recovered slowly this time. He was not happy. He was different. I think he felt the pain and new his time was near. He spent less and less time with us and more time alone. The entire staff decided that this was the last time we would subject Albert to surgery. When the tumor came back in November 1997, we eased Albert to his final rest.
Albert is buried on the side of my pond. His spirit sees the deer, raccoons, coyotes, fish, frogs, and the birds that all come to visit the pond. I know somewhere in heaven his tail is swishing from side to side and he is waiting to pounce on that one bird...as soon as it gets a little closer.
Al's friend,
Dr. Howard A. Mintzer