Tuesday, March 18, 2014

'But I Digress...'

It's been a difficult, tear-filled week...

My reading and reviewing is suffering, but it's nothing compared to the suffering I'm experiencing right now.

You see, I lost my 'little girl', my darling cat, my Molly.  She had cancer, and it had been hiding until very recently.  It was discovered on Monday.  And that's when I spent almost an hour saying goodbye to her.  The vet was kind and compassionate (he recently lost his beloved dog); he gave me options, but told me that it would just prolong her suffering.

I first met her when she was about 8 weeks old.  My daughter brought her home, and when I saw the little thing, I immediately said, "I will not fall in love with it!  I refuse!" (we had just lost a cat about a month before).  So, as I stomped off to the kitchen, the little black and white bundle followed me.  Of course I fed her.  Of course I stared at her.

Of course I fell in love with her.

She has been with me for (almost) eleven years; she would have celebrated her birthday just this November.

But life is cruel.  Life takes away the ones you love, and I loved her to the moon and back.

My Brave Little Toaster investigating the dog
She licked my tears when I cried.  She cuddled me while I was reading.  She jumped into the laundry basket the minute after I filled it with clean, warm clothing.  She always made me follow her to the litter box because one of our other cats loved to torment her when she was at her most vulnerable.  She was tiny and delicate; feminine and dainty.  But she could be fierce.  She stood her ground with the best of them.  She was my 'Brave Little Toaster'.  She was the one who had the courage to sniff the dog, and welcome our Porch Cat.  

Molly is the inspiration for the children's book I'm writing.  She is (and always will be) the president of the Evil Plan Bureau, an association created to get rid of our visiting dog, who, by the way, simply adored the little cat.

Every time I look at my 'reading chair', I picture her sleeping there.  But it hurts now to know that that was the last place she slept.  

It hurts to lose a best friend, especially one who was so devoted to me.  I'll miss her 'bee noises', that little deep trill she made whenever she jumped onto my lap.  

Although most people might scoff at the notion of a 'Rainbow Bridge', I do not.  I know that she has crossed it and is now playing with my other beloved animal friends, chasing butterflies and begging for a nice bowl of milk.  She might even be waiting for me.  

But today, I did something I thought I'd never do:  I asked her to come back to me.

And she will.  

They always do.

Rest in peace, my sweetest little friend.


Laurie C. said...

but ndrilesBeautiful remembrance of your little sweetie! Molly is always with you; she made your life as special as you made hers.

Laurie C. said...

*the but nd... until the word beautiful are proving that I am not a robot!

Dawn Jackson said...

Very sweet remembrance , eleven years is a long time that said I feel your pain very much. Molly is across that rainbow bridge and is free of pain and will be happy and waiting for you when god calls you over.( hope not for a long time your still young and we still haven't gone out for a drink yet still waiting
Take care dear friend
Dawn : )

Ruth Dixon said...

I am sorry for your loss. Treasure your memories and remember that though looking at your chair brings you pain, she obviously loved your chair and knew she was close to you there. Animals know us, and we know them. You are brave and were a true friend to her, because you did not allow her to suffer!