Goodbye Friend - R.I.P. Beans

Other than the occasional goldfish and tropical fish, I never had any pets growing up. My first real introduction to having one is when we got my son Jacob a dog in June 2017. Since then Harry has brought so much joy and I am so grateful to have had the experience of having a pet, especially one as loving, lovable, and fun as Harry. 

Another pet entered the scene last June, but this time it was a lot less planned. I won’t go into the details but we ended up with a Tuxedo cat who was just a kitten at the time. He was adopted from a shelter and his official name was Uncle Leo Beans. After he came on the scene we pretty much just called him Beans.

If you had asked me if I would ever get a dog my answer would have been “Maybe, but probably not.” If you asked me the same question regarding a cat I would have said “Definitely not!” 

Well, as John Lennon famously wrote, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”Click To Tweet

Beans entered our lives and right away I was smitten, especially as I saw how he and Harry interacted.

Here is a picture of Harry and Beans waiting for what’s going to happen next at the front door.

Chilling on the bed together.

I loved Beans’ incredible spontaneity and athletic prowess such that whatever triggered his interest or curiosity he could almost instantly explore. And when it came to personal space, he couldn’t have cared less as he took great pleasure getting right in my personal zone, especially when it was most obtrusive such as being on a company video call and leaping onto my desk and then right onto my laptop so that everyone could see. Even after I would basically throw him off (remember cats always land on their feet) he immediately hops back on to make his presence felt. No fear or hard feelings.

Here is Beans after jumping onto my desk and making himself very much at home. Those eyes will always be seared into my memory. They were so powerful and represented to me the essence of deep focus and concentration as he would take everything in. He truly embodied the power of now.

Here is a picture of him after jumping onto my shoulders.

This next photo I’m rather proud of as the way his tail was situated I looked like Davy Crockett. I’m willing to sacrifice vanity and put up a picture that, let’s just say, is probably not my best in order to convey the humor and joy I found in this experience.

Beans loved to go outside and explore. In fact, whenever Heather, Harry, and I would go outside and he was left behind he would always go to the closest window to where we were and just look out and meow begging for us to let him join us. 

I took this picture to capture Beans looking at me after I left the house. I talked about how proud I was of the Davy Crockett picture, but this is the one I’m probably most proud of due to how artistic it looks and, sadly, a foreshadowing of what was to come. In this photo if you look closely you can barely make out the faint reflection of Beans in the window at the bottom left. It’s as if he’s a ghost, or some kind of apparition. 

Of course, the risk associated with cats is they are incredibly curious and physically able to leap and get to high places which can be dangerous and can also allow them to leave relatively safe places for less safe ones.

My home is situated in a lovely natural area that abuts against a large ravine which is inhabited by coyotes. Because Beans loved to take advantage of any door being open for more than an instant to run out, we always had to be vigilant about making sure we shut the door quickly when we got home or if someone came to the door. Of course, we were never 100% successful so there have been a number of instances when Beans would get out. Because Heather had cats growing up she had time tested methods for getting his attention and luring him back. We were always able to get him and given that most of the time when he would get out it would be during the day it wasn’t that concerning because coyotes and owls are much more prevalent at night, although we have definitely seen the former during the day over the years. We also see a number of hawks flying above but those haven’t concerned us too much.

Unfortunately on the night of Jacob’s birthday on April 22nd, the door was left open a bit longer than it should have been and Beans ran out. I saw him close by the door smelling some plants. Because cats can be skittish and have a mind of their own I couldn’t just go up to him and grab him because he would have run away. He saw my presence and then ran under the car and then into a planter where he usually goes. Unfortunately I couldn’t corner him so Heather took over the rescue operation and while she had him in her sights Harry also came outside and Beans knows that Harry likes to chase him so he scampered off. We had a GPS tracker on Beans and Heather went to the app to see where he was and it looked like he wasn’t moving. She went outside and unfortunately found that it had fallen off so now she was getting concerned. She opened another door which is closer to the ravine area and I happened to walk in as she was near the door and she said she could hear something that didn’t sound good like there was some kind of wrestling going on and she got a chill through her whole body sensing something terrible.

After a frantic search Beans was nowhere to be found but there were signs of coyote hair and cat hair nearby that was terribly ominous. Unfortunately, Beans was never found, except some remnants discovered by Harry who was on sensory overload as he could detect Beans’ scent and he led Heather’s daughter to parts of the ravine that confirmed that Beans had met his demise.

People who know me or have read my blog know that I am unfortunately no stranger to devastating loss. I was surprised in some ways how saddened I was by the loss of Beans. It has hit me really hard such that I have felt the need to try to understand it more. Hence this blog post, which is 100% being done for my own benefit as I have found that writing is a great form of therapy for me and a way to try to gain more clarity about what I’m thinking and feeling or try to tease out insights that might be buried in my subconscious and may potentially be brought into consciousness through the writing process.

Of course Beans wasn’t a person so the void couldn’t be the same as losing a person. And yet, there is a void. I loved coming home and seeing him bounce up and down to greet me and often turn on his back signaling his trust in me and that he wanted to play. Upon seeing him I would always say “Hello friend” and show him affection and in return he would purr so happily. It was always so innocent and pure.

It was especially joyful when Harry would get hyped up upon my arrival and almost immediately start to attack Beans in a playful way. Beans would just roll on his back or side and handle whatever Harry gave him with absolutely no fear and claw back at him when he saw the opportunity to do so. I also loved when Harry would run after him and Beans would just explosively run away and leap up onto a table or chair to gain the higher ground. It was so natural, authentic, and interesting as well. I also wonder if this contributed to Beans’ lack of awareness of who his true predators were because he may have reacted to coyotes attacking him in a similar manner as he did with Harry, which was not from a place of fear, but one of playfulness. Who knows? I can speculate all I want looking for answers but that won’t bring Beans back. The only benefit such ruminations can bring is if we use the experiences we had with him in the event (probably unlikely) we get another cat so that we can take even more protective measures to help him or her survive in our treacherous environment. I digress.

I just loved how curious he was and while he was very attached to us he would also do his own thing. Whenever Heather and I headed up to bed Harry would instantly run upstairs and jump up on the bed showing us there was no chance he was going to sleep anywhere else. Beans, however, would march to the beat of his own drummer, and eventually come up, but only when he was ready. He too would end up on the bed snuggling close to one of us and it was always so comforting knowing he was there, especially when we would hear him purring. On the other hand, nights were not always peaceful and carefree as there were many times when something would trigger his curiosity and the next thing you know we hear him climbing up curtains, exploring in the bathroom, jumping onto our headboard, etc. It was the bewitching hour for Beans and there was no way we could sleep through that. And yet, something inside me found his antics to be so entertaining and interesting.

When a person passes away, particularly an adult, the grief can be so painful. And yet, being people, they left behind people-type situations that have to be dealt with. Bank accounts to take control of, passwords to access, documents to gather, estate issues to be managed, furniture to be dealt with, heirs to be contended with, legal matters to be handled, funeral arrangements to be made, eulogies to be written and assigned, and so on. 

The point is there are practical responsibilities that must be dealt with that can serve as a dampener and distraction to that grief. Now of course dealing with these issues can also trigger constant reminders of the deceased but there are things that absolutely have to get handled so it can numb some of the pain in the short run. For those in charge of the situation they must “shut up, suit up, and show up.” In other words, to get everything done that needs to be done one must avoid complaining, do one’s best to prepare to handle whatever comes their way, and be fully present to handle whatever needs to be handled. They have a mission and in many ways this can be a form of distraction to help from being overwhelmed by the pain of loss.

With the passing of Beans, however, it made me realize that none of those collateral issues need to be handled. It’s just a pure void. One moment he is here and the next one he’s not and there are no associated responsibilities resulting from his passing. All that remains is the shock, sadness, and despair of something so innocent and beloved leaving us in an instant with no need to handle any of the collateral issues associated with the passing of a human. Of course, over time, these emotions of despair will most likely be replaced by beautiful memories and powerful inspirations of gratitude and joy that we were so lucky to have him in our lives, even for such a short time.

The void we are feeling seems to be felt by Harry as well. He is always looking for him, going to places where Beans would usually be, but to no avail. Here is a picture of him outside that doesn’t look to be one of his happier moments. And while we may be projecting our feelings onto Harry, it does feel like he is far more subdued than normal.

This post is in no way intended to compare the passing of a pet with that of a human. What I am trying to do is engage in a deeper inquiry into my psyche to better understand why I have periodic feelings of deep sadness and regret. It also reinforces for me the age old adage that it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. We had Beans for about 10 months and he left a profound impact on me for which I will forever be grateful.

One of the things that gnaws at me is that I feel like I let Beans down and didn’t protect him when he was most exposed. We all want to protect those we love so when it feels like we didn’t it’s extremely painful and very hard to shake. I know it’s nature and the circle of life but it still feels like I could have done more. Time does ultimately heal so I know that this feeling will also subside and be alchemized into something more positive and helpful.

The thing I loved most about Beans was how he would constantly show me how he could live so spontaneously and instinctively. He was always intent on following the next clue and wherever that took him then so be it. Harry is different in that he is much more predictable in that most of his choices revolve around being close to us or people who come to the house. Beans was much more variable in his actions. One moment he would be chilling alone in a dresser drawer or on the couch and the next he would be clawing at furniture to climb up it much to our consternation. Another time he would jump onto the counter as I’m trying to make something to eat or following me so closely and intently when he sees I’m opening a can of tuna for him. Even the inability to train him and have him respond to his name bred fascination and entertainment for me. He was so fun, interesting, curious, spontaneous, as well as beautiful and loving. Most importantly, he was so easy to love and opened up my heart in beautiful ways. After all, isn’t that the essence of being human? To have our hearts opened in ways that we can feel the overwhelming power of love such that our souls shine even if this vulnerability can inevitably lead to pain through loss or disappointment? 

I really am so grateful for the time I had with him and yet the loss is real and the void deep. Of course it will heal as no one is immortal so if we live long lives invested in others, including pets, then loss is inevitable so it’s up to us to find the meaning of that loss and try to integrate it in the most helpful and healthy ways. This is what I’m trying to do by indulging in this post. 

When I watched Beans he really embodied for me Joseph Campbell’s notion of following your bliss. This is what he said about that.

This means to pursue that which inspires one with a sense of wonder and

connectedness, full of the rapture of life. It doesn’t mean pursuing simple

materialistic happiness or middle-class (even academic-class) fulfillment,

though it may incidentally result in those. Bliss is a technical term in

Buddhism, ananda, for being enraptured in enlightened wonder and living

in harmony with truth and being. This doesn’t mean being narcissistic in

the sense of being concerned only with one’s own happiness and

satisfaction, though it does mean following one’s own path and not

looking to “what other people think” for the measure of one’s success. It

means paying attention to what life is telling one one ought to be doing,

paying attention to the promptings of one’s soul, to the urgings of

compassion, and to one’s sense of being part of the grand process of life.

I will miss you my friend and thank you for all that you brought to me (as well as many others) in such a short period of time.