Gibbs, our General from "Cat's Eye"

17 years ago, when I was barely 13, and my baby sister was only 5, Gibbs the cat came to protect us from lizards and cockroaches, much like General from Stephen King's "Cat's Eye" came to protect a 10-year-old Drew Barrymore from a nasty looking evil troll, whose physical appearance would still haunt me today if not for the fact that I knew Gibbs would always be there for my sister and I.


Gibbs appeared to be a mean cat, seeing as he would bite anyone just for fun and then look at them with beady, shifty eyes, as if saying, "what you gon' do about it?", right before proceeding to lick his nut-sack while sitting lazily in the couch. He wasn't mean though, he was simply playful yet full of conviction, and he was training for the day when the troll would come.



Gibbs was extremely loyal. Whilst training for the troll, he would kill lizards, cockroaches and anything else he could get his paws and beady eyes on. As a show of loyalty, of keeping up with his training, and of love, he would lay the defeated animal on my baby sister's pillow. I am sure if Gibbs could write, he would accompany the carcass with a tiny note that read, "I'll always be there for you, so sleep sound tonight".


The troll started coming to visit a few months ago. Gibbs had already turned 84 in cat years, and neither I nor my baby sister (around 22 years old by then) lived with him anymore. We moved on, we made our own families, in great part because Gibbs protected us long enough to grow up. He, however, was stuck in the same big house as always, but with no one left to protect.


Loneliness, old age, joint pain, fatigue, loss of appetite . . . Gibbs was losing the battle against this troll and more importantly, with no one left to protect, Gibbs had no desire to fight against it. He would have easily overtaken it otherwise.


In my mind, Gibbs didn't give up. He simply realized that his work was done. The people he swore to protect had grown older thanks to him and were now protecting their own families. It was time for Gibbs to look at the troll with his beady, shifty eyes and say, "what you gon' do about it?", right before proceeding to lick his nut-sack while sitting lazily in the couch.


Gibbs went to cat heaven yesterday. He's probably bragging about all the trolls he killed in 84 plus years and knowing, without a doubt in his mind, that my baby sister and I will never forget his legend, and will never be afraid of trolls . . . ever again . . .


Rest in Peace old friend. We Love You.