little ones « mlwms

little ones

Posted November 7th, 2005 by Michelle

I just made the mistake of going back to read the blog I wrote when my cat died. One of the posters on Ian’s blog just had to put her cat down, and it was such a deeply traumatic event that my heart is heavy just thinking about it. I realize that to a non-pet owner such a thing may seem trivial at worst, inevitable at best, but your pets truly become a part of your life and having to choose when they die never feels right. I still wish that Zooey could have raised his paw and said, “Now. I’m ready now. This isn’t fun anymore.” Instead, I waited until he seemed past miserable, until he hadn’t purred in days. So maybe I waited too long. It doesn’t matter, I would have second-guessed the decision regardless- except I couldn’t let him live in the state he was in. He was mostly gone. But it doesn’t matter.

I’ve already had a conversation with my cat Fezzik, who turned thirteen this summer, that he better be one of those strange creatures that live to be 22 or 23. That’s the deal. For that, I’ll put up with his neuroses and his waking me up around 3:15 most mornings cuz he’s bored. I just hope he keeps up his end of the bargain.

And then, of course, there’s the Lucybug.

When this little creature is part of your morning, it changes everything- absolutely everything. She wakes up and all she wants to do is greet the day with first a shy smile, and then a guffaw that she gets to be there, with you. I had the rare and wonderful opportunity to witness three such mornings, and a full weekend with Lucy, Tessa, and Ian, and the beauty in that trinity is enough to knock you off your feet. I also saw a taste- just a taste- of the awesome responsibility of having a child. I keep thinking that if I do not find Mr. Right (or even Mr. Damn Close) in the next couple of years, I’ll just have kids on my own. But my god, what a choice. I’m stunned by the numbers of single parents in this country, stunned that they are ever successful, stunned by the work they take on and the dedication they must have to get through each day.

And so, Fezzik, you are it for now. Even though you do not give me this gift at feeding time…

… I’ll still keep putting out the Cat Chow.

5 Responses to “little ones”

AddledWriter says:

November 8, 2005 at 12:09 am

>>>I keep thinking that if I do not find Mr. Right (or even Mr. Damn Close) in the next couple of years, I’ll just have kids on my own…

I know. How is it that 16-year-olds do it? (Well, their parents watch the kid). There are going to be a bunch of us contemplating this decision pretty soon.

You know what I realized recently? Ending up alone is not nearly as scary for me as marrying someone I don’t like that much JUST to have a kid. So, it’ll just be me and my baby. At least I get to name it whatever I want, mwa ha ha ha!!!

JJE says:

November 8, 2005 at 3:41 am

Michelle (and Ian, too) – thank you for your kind words regarding my cat. I’m glad there are people in this world who understand what it’s like to lose a beloved pet. He wasn’t just a cat to me and I’m struggling to accept that he’s really gone. I keep expecting to see him saunter around the corner, demanding treats in that silly, bossy way he had.

When I finally made myself turn in last night, the bed seemed so empty without Cobi snuggled between us. So I was grateful that his brother Bailey appeared to sense my neediness and left his customary place at the foot of our bed to tuck in near the curve of my hip.

I re-read your entry and though I might not have said it nearly as eloquently, I could have written the same account. Once it was over, the vet left me alone with him and oh, god, how I kept trying to leave the room. It was well past midnight and my mother was waiting for me to return home to the baby so she could make the hour drive back to her own home. Walking away from him on that sterile metal table and shutting the door behind me – leaving him there alone when all I wanted to do was grab him and run – was the second hardest decision I had to make that night.

We’re in the process of building a new house and my plan is scatter his ashes among one of the flower beds of our landscaping. He was an indoor cat, but it will be a small comfort to think of him spending his afterlife basking in the warm sunshine.

Since I finally took the opportunity to register to comment, I just want to tell you how much I enjoy reading your blog. You write so beautifully and I often leave your blog feeling a bit more inspired than when I arrived. I wish you all the wonderful things in life you so richly deserve.

Jennifer

November 8, 2005 at 3:46 am

PS – On a happier note, Lucy has the most stunning eyes I’ve ever seen on a child.

(But don’t tell Connor that – I’m still in love with his baby browns!) 😉

Michelle says:

November 8, 2005 at 8:40 am

JJE- Zooey is in a box underneath Ian and Tessa’s bed up at the farmhouse. His ashes, that is. And Kije’s ashes are next to him. We keep on saying we are going to bury them together, but we just haven’t managed to do it yet. I love thinking about the two of them hanging out together under there, for some macabre reason. Small comfort, but comfort nonetheless. I’m glad you have Bailey to keep you warm.

addledwriter, I couldn’t agree more. Marrying a tool, or anyone coming close to a tool, just so I could squeeze out little ones and have some assitance, is just not going to happen. Alas, someday, our princes will come.

Sean says:

November 8, 2005 at 11:47 am

Just so you both know, my cat died in 1989, it has been years and years, and I developed an allergy to cats at the same time that has made it impossible for me to be in a house with cats. And yet…

After all this time, I keep thinking I see him out of the corner of my eye. I wear glasses and sometimes the light reflects off my lenses and it looks like a flash of white somewhere behind me, and I still look expecting to see him there.

I haven’t lived with animals in 16 years, more years have elapsed since his death than I shared with him, and he’s still with me.