Moving, Again

The boxes are never thrown away.  Just simply stashed because there will always be IMG_7516another move, it seems.  From this house to a next.  I should be happy that my house has sold and on some levels I am.

It has been a lot of work to maintain the lawn, the house in general and I have never fit into the town where I live.  As much as I tried and as much as I wanted,  I was the one to blame the issues, to be called the trouble maker, to be cast aside.  That is not really so bothersome because I grew up in a small town out in the country and was never able to be included because I did not live in town.  I had created my world, as I do now.  Although, today when I looked at all the stuff I have, all the memories, the aloneness and the burden of another move, feels very heavy.

I am very sad to leave the sweet kitties that have passed while living in the house and who are buried on the property.  It seems a form of betrayal to them.  They were all special.  All came with their history of hardship from this little town.  I worry what the new owners will do to their little graves.  I have placed plants on top of each one however the new owners may dig them up and toss them in the trash.  They don’t deserve that.  So it will break my heart to drive off and leave them even though I know they are enjoying a better life in heaven.

It is the type of heaviness and sadness this town has brought to me.  The other cats are so settled in this house.  So comfortable with the big windows.  The space to roam and I don’t know yet where we are going.  It is as always, life becomes all about money.  What and where I can afford.

I long for the familiar.  I long to be settled and have for a long time.  I long for the chance to just cozy in and know I will stay for a long time.  That the cats will not be uprooted and as they pass, know I won’t have to drive off and leave their remains buried to the chance of a new owner.  I long for all of that.  I long for people to welcome me and include me even though I may not have as much money as they do.  Or be able to put on the show by being flamboyant or phony.

Being a top dog has never mattered to me.  What has always mattered to me is being kind to other people.  Being kind to animals.  Doing what I can so no one goes hungry or that a cat doesn’t have to live a mistreated life or go with out food.  I try to treat the wild animals that venture on my property the same.  Offering them food at night and water because they are beneficial too.

Yet will the new owners do all that.  It is doubtful.  Very doubtful.  They will breeze in to the house, the town and be well received.  They will play the game it takes to be top dogs in  this small village where I have lived for close to twelve years.  In some ways the longest I have lived anywhere.  They will oohed and ahhhed over.  They will play the game and probably enjoy their time here.

So today, I am sad.  Sad that I will be leaving what is familiar even though it is an empty existence.  I am sad that I have to leave my sweet cats that have passed and not be able to care for their little graves.  I am sad because I have memories of them in this house.

Yet it is expensive to live in this little town so I must look elsewhere and hope somehow I can find a place to fit in for a change.  A place where my cats will be comfortable and where maybe, just maybe I can live out the rest of my life.

Moving makes me wish I could just erase it all and go back to the beginning of things.  Go back to how things were when life felt better.  When family still lived and friends were around.  When my old hardship case cats roamed around and enjoyed a peaceful afternoon nap.   It comes with age though when people go on to the higher level.  When our pets leave us too.

It is silly I know to allow a move to bring sadness.  It is silly to long for the past when one can never bring it back.  It is silly to not see the opportunity that lies ahead regardless of where that may take the cats and me.

I know like in the previous times, this too shall pass and I will gather momentum of filling the boxes of stuff I have no interest any longer of having yet for some reason keep packing into the boxes.  Always thinking that maybe the next place I will have a use, or maybe the next place will truly be home.  In actuality, I really don’t need much and would just as soon wipe the slate clean and keep just a few things.  After all life really is about the memories and not about the things.

So I will, I know, rally and when the time comes drive away keeping the memory of the sweet kitties who passed.  The memories we shared in the house that was always a bit too much for me.  The memories of all the efforts to make the place home albeit if just for the cats.  I will move forward and know that there is the chance that the next place may just be it as long as there is a wonderful screened porch for the cats to enjoy.  As long as it is a safe place to live because in my heart, I know who I am.  I know that whether or not I fall into the mix doesn’t really make me any different and I know too that those who build the fence to keep only the chosen ones in, are truly the ones who loose.

One must leave the harbor to catch the wind and that is I suppose is what moving is all about.


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Awkward Moments

Time slips up on one.  The holidays come.  The months pass.  Then before long there is yet another threshold birthday.

Those of us who reach a certain age, watch as the young take our place on the stage of life.  We read the body language.  Hear the scoff to what we say or think we can still do.  Yet we know we can and we do not feel any older then the ones who have seized the stage we once danced.

Party invitations no longer come to the cool parties.  Visitors no longer respond to overtures to go to a club to hear a musician.  After all we are not cool.  We do not wear the three inch heels because we are wiser to those and know there is no reason to be that uncomfortable.  So we retreat to the words of a book to loose ourself to the lives and capers that an author presents on the page.

If one is really in tune as I have always been my entire life, given the gift of being able to really read people, they sense more deeply then others the awkwardness that seeps from one trying to find their way away from the chat.

It is not that life is not enjoyable or that there is no fun, it is though the forced awareness that we have become the paper on the walls and not welcome among the chairs, the sofas, the lively world that exists in the room.  We are reversed to what we are told as children back in the day, we are to be seen but not heard.  Our money is welcome, however we are not.

We dress ourselves to go to an event far better then the other younger and sometimes even our peer group.  We attempt in doing so to offer respect to those hosting the event or the person/artist of the event because we know this is the right thing to do.  Yet that doesn’t work either.  We have to face that if it was not an event we paid for entrance to attend, we would not be included.

It is an awkward place to be in life because most who reach the older years really would like to hear not just chit chat, we would like to know what makes a person.  What those avoiding us are really thinking about life.  What their dreams are and what they are bringing to society today.  We really are not out of touch even though the attempt to push us in the corner is always hanging around.

I know this is not true across the world or probably even in a large city like New York or San Francisco.  It is however the way in small towns when a trendy group of wannabes blow into town and become big fish in a small pond.  It is like the ones in high school who are popular and the others who are left out.  It is a strange yet interesting movement to watch.  It is also probably a very short lived movement.  Wannabes are just that wannabes and the time comes when they too age, or they are just no longer cool and they too become the paper on the wall.

Yet that doesn’t ease the awkward moments that come when a wise older woman wants to hear a bit of music,  see some outstanding art or enjoy the fruits of a talented chef.  Sometimes I know this does not just apply to those who have had one or two threshold birthdays, it happens to those perceived as not being cool enough and that is sad.

I wish there was a way for all of us to smoothly blend and everyone pulled from the wall to be part of the party.  Pull those awkward moments into smiles, handshakes and lively, interesting conversation.  Yet it is life.  Life particularly in the small towns, the crevices tucked away in larger places and for sure in the realm of the United States, is just rather superficial and will always be that way, I suppose.  It is wise to just recognize it and move with grace to enjoy what is important to us even though we notice, feel and know there are those who will always feel uncomfortable with someone not quite like them on their stage in life.  Yet the stage is large and they too will perhaps watch as the audience begins to wain and wish they had been more open to everyone because some really wonderful moments were probably missed.  Ahhh  the life of the wannabe so afraid to step away from the stage and embrace those awkward moments that bring depth and beauty to one’s life. That would just not be cool.

And so it is the awkward moments as we step away from those, heading home to our books we sense a bit of peace knowing it is not us, it is sadly them.  The characters in the books are so much more friendly and endearing and that in itself is rewarding for those awkward moments.  And thankfully so, there will always books just as there will always be wannabes.

Life is a big stage, though and we must step down from the wall and dance.  Yes indeed we must dance.


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Hello from Heaven

Hey it’s me again, Benson.  I know, I know I am not suppose to be able to communicate since I crossed over on Monday morning but I have a few things to say before I get too busy.

First crossing over that rainbow bridge is not so bad.  Not really.  Oh yeah, it is tough to leave those who love you behind and all those fun times, toys and such.  The bridge is actually rather cool.  There are these gold bricks that glow as you step on them.  Not a garish gold or glow like that broom head has in his apartment, rather a soft welcoming gold and a glow more like a halo.  There are cardinals to show you the way and angel cats waiting on the other side of crossing over the bridge of that big big sky to climb ever so high to heaven.

Oisie and Vester were there waiting for me.  Even though I had only seen them in person briefly, I knew them well from our conversations and touching paws through the door.  We are now roaming around together and reminiscing about our time with our Lady.  We talk about how we drove her crazy at times not liking this food or that.  That she would still go out and find something new for us to try or even better bake turkey thighs for us.  And oh those cans of tuna and salmon that we so love.

Well we all know that was a good life however here in heaven, there are long low tables of every kind of food we could possibly ever want.  There are mice covered in chocolate which on earth we are not suppose to have.  Here though everything is ok.  There are big bowls of treats that we can have any time of the day and not just after dinner to clean our teeth.  So we are quickly returning to our fat ol selves we once were before we became ill.

There is an abundance of toys and an ongoing supply of catnip which keeps us all high as if we are ol hippies.  We cruise around.  Climb big beautiful trees. Take a cat nap on huge cozy pillows.  It really is called heaven for a reason because everything is so nice and there is no fighting just peace and love.

I have encountered one or two of my ol chums and a couple of enemies from the alley.  They did not end up with the good life as I did.  Rather their life was much shorter then mine and not so comfortable.  They are here now and all is better because now they have a really good, safe life with everything they ever longed for or missed out in having.

We all want you to know, we look down over you. We each have our people we look after.  The ones who gave us homes and then the others, who did not get homes like the guys I know from the alley, help us look out for you.

Today we are sending as much love and hope as our little hearts can send because we know so many, so very many are concerned about the broom head.  Please know we are going to mess with that broom head.  We are going to send fleas to be all over his head.  We are going to send mice up his pant legs even though the mice will turn around and run back down because of the awful sight they encounter.  We are going to curl snakes around his waist so he can’t really breath very well and finally we are going to scratch the hell out of those damn ugly gold chairs.  You know the kind of stuff cats love to do yet don’t because they are grateful for their home.  Now we are free to do it to the ones who act so badly.

So know we are up here even though we miss you and we understand how sad you feel because we are gone but don’t do that because we loved you very much while we were with you and all is so lovely here.  We will wait and watch for when you cross over the rainbow bridge just as the others did for us.  The cardinals will sing happily because we are together again.  For now though find peace in your heart and treat everyone as if they were your favorite cat….well maybe not the petting and kissing part but the other stuff.  Share your food, give as you can and be as kind as possible to everyone because just like me, some are rough and tough because of their lifestyle, not because of their heart.

That is it for now….maybe I’ll swoop in with a few wise words from time to time.  Oh and by the way, I am back to creating a bit of art, so I may toss something at you from time to time….so long for now.  Paws up with love.  img_1003





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Seeking Roots

Whether or not one’s childhood was stable, good or not so favorable, we sometimes find ourselves seeking the roots we knew.  Even the unstable ones because somewhere in all that there was something that held us.  Some form of cohesiveness.  Again good or bad.

When life feels so off balanced and unsettled we long for that sort of footing.  Something that we knew.  That feeling of belonging to a place or a family.  They say one can not really go back yet I think in many ways we can.  True a place may have evolved and family may long have gone away, yet the memory holds solid.

It is in that memory, one can find the old roots that still hold deep.  The very sense of the basis of our beginning.  The foundation of who we became.

I am finding myself, this seeking of roots, to be with me recently. After so many losses of late and through the eleven years of living where I do now, I am longing to walk the streets with familiar names of my past.  To sense the old memories even if all has changed physically.  To stroll that old beach I knew both as a kid and as an adult.  To drive by the old house where my aunt lived, my grandmother.  To visit the old church where my Dad sang as a young man.  A paid talented tenor.  To savor the lovely traditional interiors and rituals. To hold onto the comfort for a while and perhaps find those old roots, settle down into those and thrive.

My soul longs for that and in someways perhaps it would help to fill the void of so many losses, even if just a little.  We can not bring back the past to change it or have it, yet we can savor the moments in our hearts that were pure and good.  We can walk those ol familiar streets as a different person yet enjoy the comfort the memory of those streets bring.

We can even find a house in this place of familiar streets and somehow I think it can become a real sense of home because we have returned to what we know.  As I look at what is ahead with real concern, it is that sense of comfort and home I think so many of us need at this time.  The ol sense of those roots.  Perhaps in our seeking, we can find as well.


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The Void

img_1752Over the past four years I have written blogs about Benson and my other cats.  Two of which just passed within the recent three months.  Then early Monday morning at close to 1 am, 12.53 to be exact, Benson joined them in his travel across the rainbow bridge, as some say, when a pet passes.   Cardinals had surrounded the house all day so I knew the end was near.

Even though he had been ill and begin to really digress over the past week and I knew the end was ultimately near, it still has been a difficult loss.  It may have been even more upsetting if I was not still numb from loosing two of my other older and long time cats.

Benson stood apart from all the others.  He came to me as I have written as a battered cat from the alley in the small town where I live.  Cats are not regarded in the highest manner here nor I guess are they really anywhere.  His ears were frayed from having to fight probably for food and to protect himself.  But those ears were endearing.  They touched my heart because I understood his past even though I did not totally know the details.  I could sense the wiseness in his soul.  The tough edge he had gained from the street smarts he was forced to know.

When we loose a pet or someone close, we go through the motions of the day.  We eat breakfast because we have to. We make the bed because we must.  We find ourselves doing the little things to keep us in motion.  Busy work so our mind does not melt into a soaked mess.  We review our time with the one who has passed.  We try to focus on only the good yet there were times when anger or upset occurred and in our sadness we regret those times.  Wishing we could somehow take those back.

Benson came to me when I was already a bit overwhelmed with five other cats and soon after loosing a special cat much like Benson just a previous month or so.  He was a challenge and feisty.  We had many moments of spats, bites and scratching.  I did not back down in trying to gain his trust or to let him know all would be ok.  Fortunately I had a very large space, the master suite of my house which I do not use which I gave him as his living space always hoping to bring him out to the house with the others.  That never happen although he did have time each morning and late afternoon to come roam the rest of the house.  We established a routine, as life goes.  We all have our routines.  The other cats began to know about what time was Benson time and they would wonder off to a bedroom to be closed away while Benson was out.  He was aggressive with the other cats and two, the ones who passed recently prior to Benson were older and really not up to standing their ground with him.

So we settled into our routine which grew to everyday for the past four and a half years.  The timing of giving them all breakfast and dinner was the same.  The time I ventured into Benson’s space in the afternoon to spend time with him watching travel or cooking shows…he probably knew quite well how to bake a cake, or make a delicious lasagna.  We sat close together watching these.  Sometimes a nap was in order after yard work or what ever.  Sometimes just because it was a rainy day and warranted the nap.  He would cozy close, sometimes deciding to just curl up on top of me.  A heavy weight because he was a large cat.  It was endearing to have him seek the closeness.  The love.  We were very bonded in so many ways.  Alike in so many ways.

To walk into the room today even though I removed his bowls and place mat yesterday thinking it would help with the loss, there is a huge void.  My heart is heavy from the loss of him.  I think about how I use to look at the back of his little head and those battered ears realizing just how far we had come.  The reward of it all.  I wondered what he thought sometimes, as we always do with our pets.  He loved me dearly I do believe, as I did him.  Oh yes he took some big chunks out of me when he wasn’t happy with me and at times I yelled at him because he did so.  Yet we had that bond that one doesn’t always have.  That bond that creates a huge void when it is gone.

One has to move on with life as he would have had to do if I had gone away.  There are things I wish could have happen for us.  Like the sale of the house and a move to a smaller one with a screen porch where we could have all been together rather then the separation as it existed.  I always felt if that could happen then everyone in a new place would get along. There would be no territories or threat.  Just common ground and happiness.  It wasn’t meant to be and now I have the void of Benson on top of the loss of the others.

Those voids take a little of us away.  We grieve yet we still feel the loss, the void that is left.  We continue on with life although somewhat different.  We are grateful we had the time with them.  That they came into our life and that we had the routine even if at times it limited doing other things.  A look back though says it was all good and made us a bit richer through the experience.

The five cats that remain are all ones of privilege by that I mean, they were young, kittens mostly.  They did not have the tough life of the others so they do not have the character traits as those who have had the hardships.  They act like some children of wealth as if they are entitled to all they have.  Not willing to accept others less fortunate.  I will go through life with them for as long as either of us live yet there will always be the void made by the ones I so loved with the tough lives.  I related to them.  I have walked their path which I suppose that is why they came to me knowing I would understand their past and do what I could to make life better.  I only hope I did.

So the void will live on and as time goes, I suppose it will get a little smaller, a little softer yet when I remember them, see the back of Benson’s little head, the battered ears, I will always feel the loss of the pure love.  That is the void….the loss of the pure love.




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New Year….breaking traditions

Most of us are very glad to leave 2016 behind.  Closing the door and padlocking it with hopes it is never repeated.  At least that is how I feel about the year.

It was a year of set backs, hardships and loss.  One right after another and sometimes all at the same time.  It was difficult to keep hope in the heart and lift the head to weather the storm.  It was a year that tested spirit, braun and faith.

I have had many, many awful years in my lifetime however it seems that 2016 was one of the worse, if not the worse year ever.

My  heart remains heavy in many ways for the losses which I know from experience, in time the heart will heal even though the scars will remain.  Sometimes there are lessons to be learned from the losses yet I can not think of one lesson to learn from the losses I had in the past year.

There are many matters I am grateful for that came about in the past year.  The revealing of the true self of long time friends when the election became a full on heated mess.  I had to face betrayal yet again and this time I did not accept it.  I did not say to my self oh well, just let it go.  This time I let them go and for good.  A Christmas card arrived from one with her usual self focused woes of her “life in the toilet” and not one word other then what was the message of the card to me.  It demonstrated to me as with so many others I have known, that I have been nothing of importance to them other then a source to meet their needs of some sort or another. As it goes with deceptive people.  Another card arrived with no signature which is ok, I suppose yet sends a message.

With the new years I am breaking away from all those old set in stone traditions.  I am no longer going to tolerate or put myself at disadvantage for other people.  I won’t be giving as much as I have in the past emotionally, financially or otherwise.  I am going to bank more on myself, it may be wise that we all do.  Of course not in a harsh or harmful way and not without regard for those in need however with a stand against those who use, who take for their own gain, who manipulate with a sob story of “can’t pay the rent” when they have gone out to dinner the previous night or whatever it is at the moment.  I will be standing up against those and while it may mean I am even more to myself, well so be it.

Today I am breaking that age old tradition that was engrained in me as a must.  I will not be having the silly black eyed peas for good luck.  While I love those little odd peas, I no longer think they can bring luck.  They have yet to do so any year of the past.  And that cabbage that is suppose to bring wealth, well it is not happening today either.  My Mother may be looking down in concern however I don’t think she really watches over me anyway.  My sister needs too much for that to happen.  So if she slips a look in and sees that there is no black eyed peas or cabbage on the menu today well she may just have to think she is elsewhere in another country that does not have that tradition.

Traditions that have kept a tight hold are being tossed out and a wide open stage is set for a new take on life.  The year ahead at the moment with the new governing of the country offers a lot of concern yet I am going to set out on my path to find peace, to be more aware, more in tune and use my instincts more readily then I have this past year.  I am going to continue to be strong as I have yet in a different way that is less accepting of the treatment of others.  Of circumstances.  Of others opinions imposed on me or of the words “there was not room for you”.

It seems that we all need to raise our heads, stand tall, be true to ourselves while kind to others and by all means not accept the status quo or that we have to accept something, well because it is what it is.  It isn’t and doesn’t have to be.  Change can happen and may it come about in the best way possible for this New Year.  May the old accepting mold be broken and new directions taken.

If there are storms ahead, I am ready. If there is peace ahead, I am really ready.  If there are better more prosperous times ahead, bring those on.  For today though I will begin the new path of a new year breaking away from tradition and that in itself is freeing.

Happy New Year to all.  Peace….because it brings to much to the world and each of us….Peace.





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Strong girl, sweet heart

released from earthly bonds this soul is free once more to travel further….

Known to me and others as Oisie, a take from the name of Eloise which she was originally named,  went away earlier this week.  Not something I was prepared for that day nor would I probably be on any particular day yet Dr. Welch said it was necessary.  I even said I will bring her back next week, thinking I could have a bit more time with her because I was not prepare for such a loss. When I took her to see him that morning,  I thought she had a few issues which could be treated yet and that she was becoming a very elderly ol girl however I was not prepared to be told she had to be put to sleep.

She had been with me for years.  Thirteen years.  She ate her breakfast and dinner off the same pretty little saucer for all those years.  Somehow knowing it was her plate.  She wasn’t friendly at first.  Well actually for years she wasn’t friendly.

Her life had not been easy.  She lived between fences, under a neighbor’s shed and probably where ever she could find that felt safe.  Her many kittens lived with her which she ferociously protected and provided for in ways most of us could not.

I first met her while watering the plants on the patio of my town home.  There were tiny little kittens tucked with much care under the protection of a plant against the wall of the patio.  No one could see them nor was it likely a predator would find them.  She was smart, my old Oisie.  A wise ol street smart girl.

I began placing food out for her with the hopes of catching her soon and of course saving her kittens.  Saving the kittens became something much more easy then catching her. She more or less allowed me to take the kittens while offering a watchful eye when they were at the age she would be walking away from them to encourage them to make their own way.  This went on for close to a year.  She having her babies on my patio.  Me saving them and trying to catch her in a nice way.  Not with a trap or meanly.  I felt her trust was building however to betray her with a trap was not what I wanted to do.  It may have been the best way in the short view, however I wanted to be kind to her.  She really did not know kindness at all.  I so wanted that for her.

Two other cats lived with me in my town home, brother and sister….Barnum and Bailey.  They came to me at six weeks old when a neighbor brought them saying their Mother had been killed.  I wasn’t going to keep them yet they begged for a home.  So they became my family.  They would sit and watch Oisie come for her food which became a routine at the same time B&B were fed…breakfast and dinner. Plus I left dried food for Oisie to have and know it was there all day and night so she didn’t have to work so hard to feed herself and her babies.

I watched her with great respect and felt a kindred spirit with her.  In fact I felt we were a lot a like.  I had been a single mom and knew what it was like to have to get up in the morning to the responsibility.  To do what I could to provide a safe home and food.  Not everyone is capable of getting up in the morning after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, to do what needs to be done to feed the children.  It takes great strength and when the means are meager, courage.  Some times a mother feeds her children to grumblings in her own belly knowing there is not enough for her as well.

To be able to provide for Oisie meant a lot to me.  I knew to the core her trust issues. To the core the lack of support.  To the core the aloneness of survival and the instincts one musters to do so.  We seem to walk the same path although differently from animal to human, yet parallel in many, many ways.

Once she came to live with us, I watched as the privileged ones, Barnum and Bailey treated her so distastefully even though they were reprimanded.  Instincts somehow made them think they were better.  They had not experienced any of the hardships as Oisie had so they could not relate to her.  To them she seemed less then worthy to be dining at their table so to speak.  Being the wise one she was, she let them be and quickly enjoyed her meals and returned to her solitude under the bed.  There she had the comfort of a small afghan my Mother made many, many years ago.  It was something she knew because I had placed it on the patio bench for her to find comfort and eventually she did.  Under the bed was safe.  She only left to seek out the litter box and come when breakfast and dinner were served plus the periodic visit to the dried food bowl and water.  She bothered no one nor did she want to be bothered.  She had in her way found a safe place.

She was comfortable with the solitude.  The aloneness.  She had the essentials and thus was happy and grateful.

Then one day, Sylvester known as Vester to me and others came to live.  He must have said to her “hey girl come on out and enjoy life.  We have it made here.  Sofas, bed, chairs and all the food we want, plus toys.  We never have to chase a mouse or catch a bird again”. She would seek him out.  Lay close to him day and night. He was very kind to her.  Bath her and allowed her to nestle close to him both venturing into to safe deep slumber.  It was so touching and rewarding to witness. Oisie came out of her safe haven under the bed.  The afghan was moved to a basket and both Vester and she enjoyed the comfort of that little nest.

It was those times that I would be able to pet her.  To stroke her head.  It was a long, long time though before I could actually hold her or even comb her.  She trusted me just so far and I learned to respect her space.  She touched my heart from the very first encounter with her on the patio and each time I could venture into her world of stroking her head or watching how comfortable she was after so much strife, my heart would feel very full.

So we just lived our lives for years enjoying the comfort and ease of life with one another.   Other cats came to join us. Bailey eventually from time to time would try to rub against her in a moment of gentleness.  Oisie would let her never treating her badly as Bailey originally had her and on most days continued to do so.  She just accepted the nudge and went with it.  I feel sure she knew it was short lived yet somehow would rise above it all.

The years of age and wear and tear began to show on Oisie and me as well.  We were aging together in many ways.  Yet she had endure far more then I had and her body was beginning to show it.  From time to time she would fall in a deep, deep sleep and forget to get up to go to the litter box.  Furniture, rugs began to be ruined and I learned to just clean and then cover to accommodate her.  All the while feeling maybe I needed to take her to a vet.  The rescue woman I know who deals with a lot of cats, said just let her live her life.

Having had a very bad experience with the local vet, I felt that may be best.  I did not want to put her through major ordeals of long times of discomfort induced at the hands of an uncaring vet.  I mentioned this many, many times to someone I know and not once did they share where they took their animals.  Only stating they took them to La Grange, the next town over.   It seemed to send a message that it was for a chosen few.  The privileged ones perhaps.

Then I saved another small kitten and took him to a vet I knew of although thought would be expensive like the one where I live.  He turned out to be a gem of a vet.  Caring and extremely reasonable making it possible to provide care to one’s animals without going bankrupt.  Soon after that Vester, Oisie’s bud, became very ill.  How I missed the indications, I have yet to know.  My attention turned to trying to save him which as I have written a blog or two about, did not happen.  He was hands down the sweetest cat and I so relied on him.  So did Oisie.

She became very forlorn however sought me out in the mornings as I sat drinking my coffee on the sofa.  She would not jump on the sofa, just rub the back of my legs.  I would pick her up.  Pet her head, rub her tummy and hold her for a while.  Sometimes she would offer a soft purr,  however always a sweet loving face of appreciation.  If you know animals at all, they can exhibit great emotions and she did.

It all seem to happen quickly.  I was slammed with the wildest vertigo I have ever had and could not leave the bed to feed the cats at 5.30 in the morning as I always did nor could I manage to clean the 7 liter boxes.  I phoned someone who said if you ever need anything “call me”.  She didn’t answer my call nor has returned it yet now a couple of weeks later.  As it goes that old one must get up to feed the children regardless….I managed to do that at 1 in the afternoon holding onto counters, walls as if in a storm at sea.   Oisie waited in the kitchen greeting me with a soft meow and tears running down from one eye.

I thought it must be allergies since she had sneezed a bit the week prior as had all of them. As the week moved along and the vertigo somewhat improved yet not well enough to drive anywhere, her eye became worse.  I had no one to call to take her to the vet.  As soon as I could I managed to make the call to schedule an appointment which could not be for another three days since it was Christmas weekend.  I gave her lysine in her food.  Washed her eye and it improved.  Then the morning we are scheduled to go to the vet a huge bump appeared above and beside her eye.  When she came for a morning pat, she had a bugle in her abdomen which had not been there.  How all this came about so quickly I don’t know.  And the bugle on the abdomen could not have possibly been an overnight type thing yet I didn’t feel it when I would rub her tummy in the mornings.  She was of course laying on her back.

To loose her as I have, I question how I missed the issues she had and feel I let her down.  There is so much I would like to offer her.  So many more rubs.  So many more brushings which she loved.  So many more dinners of tuna or salmon her favorites along with freshly cooked chicken, not the canned kind.  So many more glances to catch her relaxed at long last taking in the sun.

Yet I know her heart was empty with out Vester and I know she knew that her life had reverted back to the aloneness of when she lived under the bed although she no longer sought that refuge.  She sauntered around more slowly as one does in grief.  She wanted that one more chance of comfort from Vester yet her street smarts told her those times were not coming back.

Whether or not she was ready to cross over I don’t know.  I certainly was not ready to let her go yet what would her life continued to be with such a void.  When the others like people sometimes do to those they don’t want in their group, letting her know “there was no room for her” yet she so wanted to be part of it all.  To me she was the world and even though I have others who are sweet cats none will ever embrace my heart as Oisie did.  If animal and person can be soul sisters, then Oisie and I were that.

So long brave ol girl, so long.  Fly high and wide with a song in your heart.  So long…img_0148










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