Irma Rombauer – Joy Of Cooking – described a brownie recipe, “than which there are no others.” So was Pachi. Pachiquelitzli came to Paula in Monterrey, Mexico during a choreographic stay. She came out from between buildings as Paula was going to get on a bus to go to the studio. Her eyes were shut from infection and she was so young that Paula had to massage her belly to get her to pee and poop. She had a loud enough voice and life force to rise above the morning’s commuter noise and Paula’s determination to catch a bus in a large, foreign city.
And so it went for the most of seventeen years. Determination, power in the Now, guidance minute by minute in letting go – the singing bowl, the wedding present vase, the special doll and on – in embracing the new, the here – each new kitten, each comrade, each death duly noted, accommodated, praised.
Paula named her from the native language she emerged and came to us. Pachequilitzli means Guide, and she has lived her name. Showing us the spirit in the name, the heart. She has been a tiny cat. Looking like a kitten, never weighing more than six pounds, she ruled our household, all of us without exception. Yesterday, at her physical end she weighed three pounds. And just a little over two months ago a tomcat was beating up our Niki, who Pachi raised. I opened the door to yell and Pachi raced outside to the middle of the driveway where she stood on her hind feet and moved very fast forward boxing and yowelling to chase the Tom away. He retreated and Niki came inside. I lept out to get Pachi and endured some of the rath the Tom was to receive.
There is no way to endure her loss, only celebrating her life and remembering her teachings will do. She purred and curled up with me to the end and now the heavens ring with her purr and we have the legacy her strength forever.