A Guard Post For Green Eyes

Our fifteen year old black cat snuggled in my arms made it a bit tricky, what with needing to unbuckle the belt one handed and remove the holstered revolver before placing it under a dirty pair of blue jeans in the Subaru's front seat. The mother and daughter heading into the clinic with a cat in a carrier didn't seem to notice. Or maybe they did. Packing heat openly is absolutely legal and a common sight in Cochise County, Arizona. Still, when you're having a pet euthanized, nobody with a brain wants to chance the veterinarian getting nervous. You might be unbalanced over the loss of your baby and decide to shoot up the clinic.

Twenty minutes later, the deed was done. Green Eyes had left the building.

She'd been a streetwalker before joining our family in early 2007, frequently strolling over to visit Pam at the open garage door. Eventually, either my wife adopted the homeless wanderer or the black female neighborhood cat adopted my wife. What we know for sure is that She Who Was Nameless became Green Eyes, spent three winters in our garage in a cat condo we constructed from a card table and a quilt, saved my wife's life one suicidal night in August of 2008, and moved with us to Arizona in April of 2009.

After Green Eyes and I shared an 8' x 12' steel storage shed as our sleeping space for one full year, we moved into our spacious, cool, superinsulated bedroom in the new house I'd built by hand.

Less than a month later, it was all over. She'd begun forgetting where she was supposed to pee. Four times in three days. Mostly on my bed, close to my head. I didn't mind so much--she always drank plenty of water, the urine was well diluted, and the aroma was hardly overpowering.

But Green Eyes was clearly embarrassed.

She and I talked at great length.

Never before had I seen a cat be so totally at peace when it was time to translate. Chanting the Hu (an ancient name for God) silently, I held her on my lap while the truly compassionate vet gave her the fatal injection. My inner vision opened; there were at least five people gathered around to help her on the other side.

After I'd deposited her towel-wrapped body in the treasure box Pam had donated to the cause and gone back inside to settle up, one of the girls working there actually patted me on the shoulder, saying,

"I'm sorry for your loss."

My eyebrows went up. "Let's not get carried away; I was raised on a ranch!"

On our four acres, Green Eyes would be the first one to occupy New Moon Ranch on a, shall we say, "permanent basis". Pam was quite clear and firm, making it known in no uncertain terms that I was to use the term "resting place", not "grave". Likewise, since it would be difficult to produce any excavation deep enough to deter marauding coyotes, I was to use some of our house-covering stucco to make her new home proof against Devil Dog packs. Okay. I could dig that.

Ouch. No bad puns, either.

However, the next idea was mine: She'd have neither a grave nor a resting place but rather a Guard Post. We live a mile from the Mexican border. Our new house is quite literally a highly defensible fort. Why not add Spirit Sentries, beginning with Green Eyes? Not that her ghost, if you will, would be expected to hang out around here all the time. But with the level of love between us, would she not gladly warn us of any impending attack? Of course she would. Speak to me in a dream or to my highly psychic wife in a waking vision. Spook a desperate band of northbound illegal immigrants looking to try a home invasion by appearing to them as a spectral black panther.

The possibilities are endless.

But where should the Post be located? I found the perfect spot: Fifty yards from our front door, with a clear line of sight between two mesquite trees to that very door. Out came the #2 shovel. While Pam sat shiva--not for seven days, but for at least 27 minutes--I dug the hole, fired up the mixer, whipped up a two-bag batch of stucco, and we were good to go.

First, a layer of stucco was shoveled into the bottom of the hole. Then Pam gently placed the treasure box / vault into the stucco layer, pressing it down a bit. That box is made of strong cardboard, but after adding more stucco around the sides, a larger piece of 15/32" strand board was placed atop the box to reinforce the entire arrangement. More stucco, piled up in a mound atop the board. Half a wheelbarrow load of two-inch rock around the stucco mound. Smooth the mound. Using a Phillips screwdriver as a stylus, add the legend,

GREEN EYES

6 / 5 / 10

Not quite finished. There has been horse and foot traffic here, the Border Patrol at least, plus no doubt a few illegals. We don't want them stepping on the marker. Add a stake nearby with a bit of flagging. Stick the stake up a yard gnome's rear end.

We appreciate the efforts of folks like Sarah Palin, John McCain, and (Arizona Governor) Jan Brewer to get our southern border secured and our citizens safe. But God helps those who help themselves. We've helped ourselves with a stucco-clad fort...and a Guard Post for Green Eyes.