Goodnight, Eva...

Our happy little home got a little smaller and a little less happy this week when Eva the Cat left us on Monday morning. She had a good, long life - but that doesn't make us miss her any less. The Robeau met Eva when he was working as a Music Director at the original Toronto location of The Second City, the Old Firehall. All the greats from the SCTV era got their start there: Martin Short, John Candy, and the rest. Later, Mike Meyers cut his teeth there before hitting the big time and later still, Eva the Cat, adopted from The Humane Society because they described her as "a little comedian" came to live at this place, where she would earn her reputation as a formidable mouser.


When the Old Firehall closed its doors in 1997, The Second City moved to a new, swanky location that would not allow a "theatre cat" on the premises. That's when the Robeau, well known in these parts as a lover and protector of felines everywhere took Eva into his home. Six years ago, I showed up, like another stray, and Eva accepted me into her home. We've long suspected that the Humane Society employee that described her as "a little comedian" must have dated a comic and understood their true dark nature. Eva was not all smiles and chuckles. She was a little tense a lot of the time, she had sad, dark eyes and she had a tendency to hiss. Part of me thought that she was convinced everyone was out to get her. She would hiss "preemptively" and then run away, for no good reason. Like one of those kids in the playground who yells "DON'T HIT ME!" even though nobody was going to hit them and then, as a result gets hit, because, let's face it, who could help themselves? Pickles and Bernie certainly couldn't. Usually Pickles was just trying to play, but I'm not sure Eva ever realized that. Or she did and she just didn't care.


Eva was, despite her independent streak, the most affectionate little kitty. Her love was sweet, awkward and all consuming...when she wanted to show it. She adored the Robeau, sitting on the back of the couch over his shoulder or on a cushion next to him more often than not. When he was eating something she wanted a taste of (pudding, often) she would reach her paw out and leave it there as if he would just hand her his spoon. That was odd and cute in a way I can't even begin to describe. In fact, Eva was both odd and cute, in a way that it is impossible to describe.

Eva inhabited the chairs around the kitchen table, walking around under there like she was in the jungle tree tops. In the last several months she developed an addiction to Friskies treats. You couldn't stand by the sink or open the cupboard where we kept them with out hearing her squeaky, insistent little "MEW!" and seeing her thin little white arm reaching out through the spokes on the back of the chair, waiting for us to hand her a treat. It was wonderful to see her so enthusiastic about something. I don't think we ever refused one of her requests.

It's lonely today, I think for all of us. Our friend is missing and we're figuring out what it's going to be like to not have her company anymore. It's not going to be easy, it never is, but I know how lucky we were (all of us, feline and human alike) to have been able to share our home with this sweet, loving, complicated creature.