Manny (April 1, 2004 - January 11, 2021)

Hi Everyone:

By 10 a.m. MST today, 1/11/21, my family and I will have said our last goodbyes and given our last loves and pets to our 17 year-old tuxedo cat, Manny.

Renal failure and a heart issue began cascading into other things like mouth sores and pulmonary issues, and they all landed forcefully on him this past week. I’m writing this a day ahead as events have happened so fast, I have to do lucid things while I am lucid and in between the frequent and unpredictable sob fests I’ve been having since getting the heartbreaking news from the vet. I love this Manny-cat with all my heart, and I am completely shattered. And I apologize zero for being that emo dude in this lifetime, especially when it comes to our four-legged kids.

My ex-wife Robin and I first got Manny in April of 2006 from Foothills Animal Shelter (and I’ll be taking him there this morning, 1/11/21, for his last time with me here in this life).

When we got him, or I should say when he snagged us, we had been living in the Denver metroplex at that time. The memory of first meeting Manny is so fresh in my mind, it’s hard to imagine it was fifteen years ago.

I found him on petfinder.com. We kept his name because it just seemed to fit. His headline read, "I LOOK LIKE A BABY!" (Robin's response was, "yeah, Baby Tank!") and the rescue shelter estimated Manny at one year old, but Manny’s first vet visit got him re-estimated at approximately two years old, so we went with the latter age estimate. He was a goofball in the best possible ways, so we’d always celebrate his birthday on April 1st. We were still smarting from losing our beloved 10 year old snowshoe siamese cat Charlie a few weeks earlier, and there was some brief concern we were jumping in too soon emotionally with a new pet.

Manny settled that issue by immediately and unapologetically stealing our hearts. Thank you, Robin, for loving and spoiling him so much for so many years.

His tuxedo features, friendly face, half-mustache, unique meow (most often sounding like what we termed his “honk”), his bruiser physique (built like a bull dog with hair almost as short), and his curled candy-cane shaped half-tail (the vet suspected he was born with it) made him a unique presence that was further punctuated by his friendly and undaunted personality. He never met a stranger, loved laps (especially mine), was relentless with his friendliness and seeking affection, and vigorously loved his mouse toys. There are too many Manny stories for me to list here (I’ll write a bunch of them up some day), but one big event was when we rescued Ruby--a few-weeks-old tiny female orange tabby who literally strolled in from the street--in June of 2012.

Manny did not like her, and she was a pistol and a half. This and myriad other antics got her the nickname “Doodlebug.”

But over time, Ruby Baby wore Manny down, he in turn wore her down, and they became best compadres and serious playmates--especially so in later years throughout hard life events (in mine and Robin's divorce in late 2014, the best living circumstances at the time were for both Ruby and Manny to eventually end up with me, and this was as I was moving back to Denver from El Paso, TX in mid-2015). Then, meeting my partner Michele in 2016 (who became my spouse in 2020, yay!), this created a mixed household of not only human family members, but canine and feline kiddos too.

The current count in the Chaisson-Wilkins crib, including Manny, is three cats and three dogs. Ruby’s not a huge fan of the dogs (she stands her ground when she needs to, like a true ginger snap, but thank goodness she and black cat Missy Mae have their own domain in our finished basement). But the undaunted Manny was not only a fan of the dogs, I think they viewed him as a pack member, and vice-versa. Manny was a bridge between the dogs and cats, and a buffer of sorts for Ruby.

She’s going to miss him, and miss him badly.

My wife and her kids Jillian and Sam love Manny with all their hearts too, and there will be a Manny-sized hole in those hearts when he’s gone, so keep all of us in your thoughts and prayers and well-wishes (Michele was a veteran pet mama before she met Manny, and she loved him no less than the other cat-kids; Sammy indeed loves Manny, but Jilly-bean is especially a lover and super-fan of Manny; she gravitated to him from the beginning, and Manny ate up her love and affection non-stop. In our past two Christmas pics she is holding Manny, her number one sidekick). I can’t write much more at this point because it will destroy me, so, for now, I’ll have to wrap it up quickly.

Through all of my major mental health and physical health issues as they've waxed and waned over the years, Manny was ALWAYS there as a source of joy, peace, and happiness that refused to be snuffed out. He burned bright for so long, and now as his body diminishes, it seems like his flame is only getting bigger and bigger in my life.

To those of you who met Manny over the years and loved him, thank you. Profoundly. His personality made him hard to miss and experience. I absolutely guarantee he loved every single one of you, because that’s just who he was.

And now the rest of this eulogy needs to be directed to the one it's written about.

Manny-boy, your daddy loves you, so much he cannot put it into words. And he’ll love you forever. Rest now, sweet Buki-boy, Bubba, and sweetheart. Thank you for all of the love and wonderfulness that was you. My pain and broken heart right now are indescribable (it’s hard to see the days ahead without your happy, upbeat and sweet face in it) but the pain is so worth it in having the privilege of you owning me and my heart. And it’s evidence of how much I deeply loved and will always love you, my little boy. I will never forget our last serious lap time together out on the deck about a week ago, with you bundled up in a Christmas blanket and happy as could be just to be with your Dad. I will never forget your final time here with me at the house, in the rocker, on the lion blanket. You are as big as a lion in my heart, yet you are my beautiful baby boy right here, right now, whose once-busy body is now finally tired out, and ready for rest.

My heart is so broken, yet so full.

Scratches, head bonks, rubs, smooches, and love…

...forever.

Daddy