Finding something to smile about...

...so. Yah. It's hard. I have not slept the night through yet. Keep thinking that Rusty needs some help, wants on the bed or is trying to open the door. I thought I was managing to hold myself together yesterday, considering. Then I found his little green collar. I lost it - dissolved into a puddle of tears.

When I woke up this morning I felt better though. I felt more at peace, like his little presence was somehow present. Perhaps when he was called to kitty-heaven there was an orientation he had to attend before he could come back to visit us. You know, "This is where we keep the chicken" or "Over here you will find the field of litter". I know he would like that.

Soooo, I challenged myself to try and find something to laugh about today. I spotted this message on a t-shirt:

Haikus interest me.
But sometimes they don't make sense.
Refrigerator.

Quite possibly, in fact almost certainly, this is the finest piece of literature to ever grace a textile. I feel honored to have shared a room with it. Amazing!

Whisker Kisses and Furry Head-bunts

There is a hole in my heart in the shape of paw print. My carpet slug, our furry purry, the breadloaf with two cat boobs, Rusticlese, Rustocrates, Rusticles…oh Rusty!

I walk through the house and I hear a grinding-watery sound. Yah, I should go check on the water fountain, maybe bring some more…maybe just go turn it off. Funny that it should be allowed to still run when he is not here anymore. How can there be water for him? How can there be cat kibbles left uneaten? He is gone, yet there is a litter box which still needs to be emptied.

So I go into my bedroom and pick up a sweater. “Darn cat, there is hair all over…” Yah, maybe I should try and save a piece. Do you think that is weird? The I.V. bag is gone from behind the bathroom door. His chair is empty and there is a pile of towels and rags at the bottom of the stairs that I still need to wash. Funny that this towel smells so much like him. I only had it wrapped around him for an hour.

We could not have asked for anything more peaceful. The euphemism “put to sleep” is really quite accurate. I knew what to expect for him, I had no idea what to expect for me. Holding him, seeing the blue barbituate…his body was the most limber it had been in weeks. I held him. He was not cold. He felt like he did 10 minutes ago, but he was gone. It was quiet, dignified and peaceful. All the things it should have been. But it hurts, oh how it hurts! I know it was right, DAMN it! I know it was right but everything just feels so wrong.

I took a shower. No Rusty. You know, almost right up to the end he would sit on the edge of the tub? Skin and bones, wet through, eyes screwed shut and little pink tongue going to beat-60 in the hopes of catching a water drop. He was not there this time.



Aye, now here is the really dirty part. How do you explain to a dog that her playmate is gone? She knew something was wrong. Washed his face every chance she got over the last few days. Spent all day ghosting around us, watching us with worried eyebrows. Now that he is gone, she is pacing the house. Is he under the bed? No. Is he on the bed? No. Why is Rusty’s room door closed? He must be in there. No. Is he in the bathroom? No. No he is not.

All cats have two outfits: A suit or pajamas. Either one, or a combination of both, are worn for varying amounts of time, depending on the personality of the cat. Rusty wore pajamas just about all the time. I am wearing mine too now. Tonight will be hard with no little warm body snuggled up against me, to “murgle” whenever I move. Mind you, I guess now I can try and sleep the whole night through.

I suppose he is in my heart. In our hearts. All I can feel right now is loss. Over the next few days we shall reminisce and remember. We will try to feel closure. Thanks be to God for family, for friends and for Rusty.