November 16 1999
Although Mr. Thelonious Monk Kitty Patchen Johnston does not
speak English I have learned enough of Monk’s
dialect to interpret for him.
Monk’s Last Testament is taken from his own self-expression
if not exactly his own words. —William Johnston)
Of my life before my adoption into the
William Johnston-Loral Patchen household there is little I wish
to say other than that at one point I depended on my own hunting skills
(not inconsiderable I must say) for purposes of survival and that
my previous family who called me “Shylo,” is better forgotten.
Members of that family had chased and hit me with brooms
and had abused me with a vacuum cleaner.
They left a flea collar around my neck
and too tightly at that so that I lost the hair around my neck
in a pattern shaped like the collar.
Thankfully the bare spot wasn’t visible unless one looked closely.
While I was with them somebody had shot me with a pellet gun;
the pellet was still in my side when Loral and Bill
adopted me and they had it removed.
Life was scary and nobody understood
that I really wanted to be close friends with people.
After being with them and abused for a long time
(I’m sorry that my sense of human time is not more defined)
that family finally took me to the local animal shelter.
The people there promised to get me a really good home.
They understood that I loved humans just fine
and wanted some real friends. That was August 9 1997.
On August 19 Loral came into the office where they were keeping me.
(Actually I had caught Bill’s eye and he later told me
that he had nudged Loral in my direction.)
Loral opened my cage and I loved her
immediately just for doing that. I wanted out so very badly.
She took me in her arms and never put me down.
Nothing could have been sweeter.
Nobody until then quite seemed to understand how affectionate
I am or how much I love someone who shows me real affection.
But Loral knew those things immediately and held me tightly
while Bill went to get the cash to pay my back rent at the shelter.
At the exit interview the shelter people told her simply that she
had already shown herself fit to take me home with her.
Bill seemed nice enough at that time but I didn’t get to know him
very well until much later.
Nevertheless I know that he suggested “Monk” to be my new name.
He said that since I was the coolest cat he had ever met
I should be called by the name of the coolest cat he knew about:
Thelonious Monk. Loral liked it I liked it we all liked it.
So from that day until now I’ve been called Monk.
My full name since then has been Theloinous
Monk Kitty Patchen-Johnston.
Loral knew that I had been abused and deeply needed affection.
She healed me. Loral loved to hold me close and I loved sitting with her.
She often took me to bed with her and kept me
under the covers close to her body. After nights outside in all weather
it was wonderful to be so close to her.
While she sat studying I sat on her lap or close by.
Loral always kept me company when she was around
and often she was there for days at a time.
She did everything for me—she gave me not only love
but my favorite foods including the occasional bite of salmon.
After being with Loral and Bill for several months we moved.
The new house was much bigger and I liked that a lot.
I could see outside and remembered my days
in woods and meadows hunting mice and squirrels and moles
and birds fighting off any cat that came my way. I sat inside
and looked out. I wanted out. One night a neighbor cat came
and sat right in front of me outside the window.
I gave him my very best scare-howl and kept it up
for about a half-hour. He just sat there and stared at me.
It made me angry because I knew that if I could just step outside
I would make it clear to him that this was my place.
Eventually he just went away but it still burned me.
Although Loral gave me all the love I could want it
made me depressed that I couldn’t go outside
into the great outdoors where I felt so at home.
For excitement I started to chase my tail.
Then one day after the leaves fell Loral went away.
After that I got to know Bill a lot better and we became best friends.
Bill gave me my freedom and he loved me a lot too.
My time with Bill was maybe the happiest period in my life
even if the time Loral took me out of that cage was the
happiest single moment in my life.
Bill wasn’t as good as Loral at being affectionate
but he gave me my freedom. It happened like this:
One night soon after Loral left I sneaked out.
I was standing by the door when it opened and was able to run
into the dark. I could hear Bill calling my name but I wanted to explore
the territory and didn’t come home until I was ready.
It made me so very happy to be outside again.
After that Bill started to let me outside.
He opened a window in his darkroom so that I could get in and
out at any time. That made me love Bill as I never had before.
Bill was kind in other ways too. He gave me my favorite foods
especially the chicken livers that I loved so much.
And sometimes he even gave me a bit of salmon.
He petted me whenever he saw me and lifted me into his arms
and hugged me and rubbed my belly.
Sometimes he lifted me to his cheek and held my cheek against his
and sang me a song for me. The belly rubs were the best.
I would get all excited. He made me feel so good.
It made me so very happy to see him.
We did that every night when he got home.
One night I went outside after dinner and there was
that mean cat that used to tease me.
We got into a fight and he bit my ear but he let go when I bit his throat.
And he never came back. I went running back
into the house as happy as I could be and jumped on top of Bill
who was laying on the sofa. He was shocked to find my ear bleeding
and put some medicine on it but he was happy to see me so happy.
I had fought and won. After that I always won.
That yard and the neighbor’s yards were all my territory.
No other cats came around after that.
Bill hurt my feelings one day though. I ran out the door one morning
when Loral was back and wanted to show them both how
good a hunter I am. Within a couple of minutes I came back
with a squirrel dead in my mouth and dropped it at the back door.
They should have been happy but Bill took the squirrel and buried it.
Just to get back at him I brought back a bluejay
and ate it in the basement in front of his darkroom.
The last few months although without Loral have remained happy.
Bill’s friends came to visit him and they all loved me.
They have been very kind. Even Bill’s friend from Ghana Martin Obeng
has been singing songs for me since I fell ill.
Bill and I usually stretched out on the sofa for a few minutes
when he got back from work. While he was making
prints in his darkroom
I loved to lay at his feet or close by and he often
petted me or picked me up.
He put a pillow on the ledge where I went in and out
and I liked to lay down there. Bill talked to me a lot and
often sang a song he made up for me.
Sometimes I sat on the grass outside his darkroom and
he talked to me through the window.
Now I am very ill. I’m afraid that this is the end of my life.
If it is Loral and Bill I want to thank you for making
my last two years the very happiest of all my life.
If I leave you now I want you to know that I’ll be waiting
for you on the other side.
Bless you and know that I love you both.
14 November 1999
(Monk died in my arms two days later. I will never forget him.)
William
| Monk |