Here’s The Story Behind The Pirate Cat Memorial In Indiana
By Tori Jane|Published February 18, 2022
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Tori Jane
Author
Tori Jane is a storm chaser, writer, photographer, and the village idiot - in that order. When she's not out and about dancing with the meanest storms on planet Earth for funsies she can be found wandering, shooting landscapes, writing, editing photos, and otherwise up to no good. Legend has it that she can also be occasionally spotted typing up short bios in the third person, but those rumors are unsubstantiated.
In Carmel, Indiana, along the famed Monon Rail Trail, right about at the 96th Street Monon Stop, there is a fascinating – and beautifully crafted – monument on which a life-sized statue of a beautiful, fluffy tabby cat sits, his expression something in between contentment and pride. On the front of it, there is an inscription, which reads (in part): He had an impact on every life he came in contact with here, and everywhere he roamed. So, who is – or was – he? The story behind the Pirate Cat memorial in Indiana is one that’s both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.
The legend of Pirate Cat began when Amanda Cancilla and Matt Gufreda realized their cat was simply happier, and thrived better, outdoors.
For a while, they allowed him to roam free as a feral cat would while monitoring him and taking care of him each time he returned home (which he always did). After growing tired of getting phone calls from people - many of whom weren't so kind - concerned about his well-being and/or straight-up stealing him and taking him home with them, they made a decision: he would have his microchip removed and his ear tipped. This would tell well-meaning concerned folks that he was happy, cared-for, neutered, and healthy as a "feral" cat. He was to be left alone.
Cancilla created a simple Facebook page called Pirate Cat where people who encountered him around town or on the Monon Trail (his favorite) could post photos, as well as a phone number concerned folks could call if he appeared at any point to need veterinary attention.
To say it was a hit is an understatement. Photos and posts about Pirate Cat (his given name) came flooding in, and it never stopped. Soon, he was a regular local celebrity.
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Remarkably friendly and always sociable, he was described as "offering encouragement" to passers-by, joggers, runners, and everyone else he came upon.
Even people who didn't normally consider themselves "cat people" fell in love with this handsome, sweet little fella. The phone number and "please post pictures with me on Facebook" tag he wore came in handy a few times as well; one time, he had come down with fleas, and a caring passer-by alerted his owners (though did anyone really "own" Pirate Cat?) so they were able to get him treated and back on his adventures in no time.
It was April of 2020. Loving fans on his Facebook page - as well as his owners (roommates?) - were worried sick. After some time away, he would turn back up, but he was in very rough shape. He had been diagnosed with kidney disease in the summer of 2019, and it had caught up to him during his travels. The impossible decision to allow him to cross the Rainbow Bridge was made, and on April 6th, 2020, Pirate Cat passed away surrounded by his family and loved ones.
The entire community felt the impact of the loss. The sadness was tremendous, and sympathy cards came pouring in.
On October 24th, 2021, his devoted friends, fans, and family unveiled a beautiful, life-size sculpture of Pirate Cat at his favorite place: the 96th Street Monon Stop.
He has been - and always will be - terribly, sorely missed.
It's no secret that this travelin', swashbucklin', roamin' feline touched the hearts of, quite literally, thousands of people during his life. His ashes were spread along the trail he loved so much, and some of them are interred at the memorial.
The Pirate Cat Memorial in Indiana is certainly one of the Hoosier State’s most unique statues. It’s not every day a critter like Pirate Cat gets to touch the lives of so many, and residents of Carmel carry him with them in their hearts every day. We’re not crying, you’re crying.
