M.

I lost my fieldworking buddy last night.

P, my neighbour, found Methodius by the side of the road, and sent me an sms. (What I was doing when I found out and with whom is a whole 'nother story. Suffice it to say that managing the moment of loss in front of someone you don't know very well is its own particular experience.)

I was really hoping P had the wrong cat, but Methodius' collar made the identification easy.

He was my fieldworking buddy. He was supposed to be there for the whole dissertation. He saw me through the really rough spots of my first few months here. He was the one who came running when he saw me. We were what mattered to each other. He was going to make the transition from Botswana kitty to American kitty with me. He was my witness to all the ducking, twisting, diving and dislocating this stupid career involves.

I tried to take good care of him.

He was the best kitty, ever.