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Wherein you will find posts with humor, photos, reviews, occasional rants and journalistic entries of interest to me alone but that I hope will touch you, the reader, in some way. I remain sincerely yours,
A Work in Progress

Friday, December 4, 2009

Maybe it it a part of getting older....

                                                      But I seem to take things a lot harder than I used to do.

It started with Frodo, my dear cat from A Helping Paw.  He was black and white and fragile and so incredibly affectionate.  He had never had a home and we loved him on sight.  We lost him 3 months later to a stomach cancer.  It made me so very glad we had brought him home and he was adored and taken care of before he died.  His last few days were hardest.  Elaine and I tag teamed on staying with him until he was struggling and we took him together to the vets.   It hurt when he died but it wasn't so bad, he was like a little miracle kitty. Rescued in time to have a family.

In honor of Frodo, my birthday cat came home with me in February from People for Cats.  I pulled in and said, "Honey, come see my birthday cat!" And Mike said, "Happy Birthday, you can keep him."  Funny man, he had agreed we could honor Frodo with another adoption.  Samwise too was an incredibly affectionate cat.  At first shy, I picked him up daily and hugged him and set him back down.  He would "check in" every few minutes with me and head butt and purr for a few minutes and then go do more cat stuff for awhile.  He liked to hang out in the bathroom at night, guess he figured sooner or later someone would show up to say hi.  Sometimes he would cry, I never figured out why and I would get out of bed and come "check in " with him.  The day I came home from the missions trip in New York, I picked him up... and there he stayed, at last soaking up being cuddled.  One night he didn't come home.  Jenna and Rowan and I spent weeks walking around the neighborhood calling him.  Mike and I put up signs in the pouring rain.  I took it really hard.  I still do.  I couldn't tell you why I loved that cat to such a degree, but I did and I do.  We had some phone calls which raised my hopes over and over but never found him.  One night, our neighbors showed up in the driveway with a carrier.  They were so thrilled, they thought they had found Sam for us.  It was such a kind thing for them to do.  When I opened the carrier, and it wasn't Samwise, a little part of my heart died.  I still can't talk about him without crying.  But the little waif inside it was skinny and flea ridden, so we took him in.

Well, the waif was a mess wouldn't come out of Jenna's room for over a month.  She was thrilled, finally a cat to cuddle with her and hang with her.  After a few weeks, I let her name him.  She called him Percy Jackson after the main character in her favorite book series.  And that's what we called him, Percy Jackson, the whole name, no nickname.  And he filled out and cleaned up and he was sleek and smooth and beautiful and we loved him.  He had just come downstairs a week or two ago and had finally made himself at home.  And he was funny, long, lean and lanky and remarkably clumsy for a cat.

I went to the vets this morning for the dogs vaccinations.  I was checking out the bulletin board, still have not given up hope that someone has found Sam, and there was a post-it.  It read, "lost cat, black and white male, Waquoit, Betty".   And I knew.  I didn't want to call but for Sam's sake, I did.  And she lives just around the corner and came to get him.  And so, Percy Jackson is gone now too.

I can't believe how hard I am taking it.  I am a mess.  Jenny Wren is devastated.  It seemed karmic that a cat like that would show up when I was missing Sam so very much, and now he is gone too.
And there is another small aching hole in my heart.
This sucks.


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