The news came as a shock and with a torrent of grief, that after years of nimbly flitting through Clinch Avenue traffic to visit the porches of various college students living in Fort Sanders, Pancho the cat was struck by a car Thursday afternoon and died after being put down at a nearby veterinarian clinic.
Named after Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard’s 1983 country duet “Pancho and Lefty” based on the life of Mexican revolutionary Pancho Villa, the outdoor cat was known for her sweet temper and love of people. Always present to greet students as they came home from class, she knew no stranger and never saw a lap she did not want to curl up and fall asleep in.
A mother and friend, she is survived by a litter of kittens who were adopted in 2019, and by scores of college students who remember her as a constant companion.
In the immediate aftermath of Pancho’s death, a private Facebook event was created to invite past residents of the street to post tributes and plan for a weekend memorial service.
Dozens of photos posted to the page show a white-and-black cat with striking green eyes sitting on ragged porch furniture, keeping company with college kids, many of whom have since graduated and moved on. In a phase of life when people come and go and years feel like generations, Pancho, who was believed to be around three years old at the time of her passing, quickly became part of a lineage in the Fort.
Looking through the photos is like looking through an old college yearbook centered around a little pet. In some, college boys are eating burritos with Pancho perched on a couch just behind. In another, Pancho has fallen asleep on the lap of a student reading John Steinbeck’s “East of Eden” or she has killed a squirrel and left its detached head on the porch where she spent most of her nights.
In one memorial post, she is photoshopped into the arms of Jesus.
“Her presence would turn a good time into a great time. I always thought that she would live forever,” said junior Emerson Manley, a former resident of the Clinch Avenue house where Pancho spent most of her time. “There will always be a Pancho-shaped hole in the heart of Fort Sanders. Rest In Peace, Pancho.”
Junior Alison Schwartz was one of a few students who witnessed the accident Thursday afternoon.
“Pancho was more than a stray cat, she was family to Fort Sanders,” Schwartz said. “The best feeling was coming home from class and seeing Pancho just sitting on our porch. Me and my roommates were the ones who found her lying in the middle of the street and then a stranger came and took her to the vet where she was sadly put down. She will be missed every day.”
Students say that Pancho had an almost otherworldly disposition for a cat. She did not bite, she did not scratch, she just walked towards every person who came her way, weaving between their legs and nuzzling her head into the crooks of their elbows or knees.
“I used to say I wasn’t a big cat person. However, after suddenly losing Pancho, I think my mind is changed,” said senior Adrianna Streetman. “The Fort queen will be missed by all of us that are here and ones that have left. Rest peacefully sweet girl.”
Though she was not an indoor cat and she was quick to kill a bird or mouse or squirrel and leave its remains strewn around, students took care of Pancho like a house cat. There was often a bowl of food or water waiting for her near one or another front door, and she had more than one bed.
“Anyone who knew Pancho loved her. She was the sweetest little street cat. She blessed class after class that held residence in the Fort,” Streetman said. “This year, my house had the pleasure of calling her our honorary roommate. That pretty, white cat became a part of all of our daily routines. Between getting met at the door for some food, late night visits at our window to just check in and play, and daily searches for some affection, Pancho made a home in all of our hearts.”
Would it have made a difference if Pancho were an indoor cat, the beloved possession of a single house? Max Baker, a junior who lives on Clinch Avenue, said yes.
“It would probably have taken away from her personality and the legend of Pancho. So many people knew her, like, so many people,” Baker said. “She slept under the porch of probably a dozen houses in the Fort and I think that’s one of the wonderful things about Pancho, is that she was everybody’s cat.”
Pancho was gentle in her outdoor ferocity, and every time she was let into Baker’s house, she caused chaos, usually by using beds as her personal toilet. But outside, she was in a kingdom of her own making.
When he first heard of her passing on a neighborhood group chat, Baker was struck with a feeling of disbelief.
“It was really hard to come to terms with,” Baker said. “Pancho for me, she’s just very tough and scrappy, and I didn’t think anything could really happen to her.”
Young men in college are not known for their tenderness, nor are cats known for enjoying the shenanigans of energetic, and often inebriated, humans. But Pancho was an ideal cat for college kids, bringing out their softer side while playing along with their antics.
Baker recalled a past resident of the house holding her aloft like he was the torch bearer at an Olympics opening ceremony, and she the fluffy little torch, lighting the way for them all.
Now, a band of UT students and alumni who could be united by little else are planning a memorial for the weekend, where they plan to drink and share memories of the cat they loved.
“She kind of came with the house. She was the one thing that was consistent in the house. She stayed through all the people that had lived there and everybody could relate over the fact that whenever they went and sat on the porch she would be there and would come sit with them,” Baker said.
The story of Pancho, a story which came to an abrupt end on a Thursday in February, is perhaps a strange one. She had kittens who now live with other people and she made friends with a few brief generations of college students, some of whom who are now married, moved to other towns and away from Knoxville and Fort Sanders.
She was small and unimposing, but ubiquitous and kind. And somehow, day by day, she made her way into the memory of a street.
“She’s had an unreal impact on the community,” Baker said. “It’s kind of weird for a cat that’s only three years old, like it’s really strange that a cat who’s a complete stray has brought people together, but everybody in the house before really loved her.”
Without meaning to, the students who named Pancho for a famous song written by Townes Van Zandt named her also for a mournful elegy whose lyrics will now forever send her off from Clinch Avenue, and away from the students who are left to remember her.
“The poets tell how Pancho fell, and Lefty’s living in cheap hotels,” Willie and Merle sing. “The desert’s quiet, Cleveland’s cold and so the story ends we’re told.”
Correction: A previous version of this article did not attribute the lyrics of “Pancho and Lefty” to singer-songwriter Townes Van Zandt.
Pancho, a beloved outdoor cat known for loving the college students of Clinch Avenue throughout her short life, died on Thursday, Feb. 10, 2022.
