|The cutest and most adorable female I have ever known.|
lovable, basking in the affection I had for her. Incredible feline, with gorgeous round, blue eyes.
Before Monday, she traipsed behind me, wherever I went. Quietly persistent about getting affection, of which I fed her plenty. She slurped and pulled hair from her chest like cotton candy, consuming it with the same relish kids have for the actual puffy-haired usually pinkish treat.
She intruded herself into sessions I had with clients. They loved her nonetheless. He Tribble-like body, adding a homeyness to the occasion.
I didn't catch what was happening, realize her death was imminent. The past few weeks she spent more time in the garage, wanting to be alone. God, I wish I knew that Death was gathering all of her seven lives.
One of my last events with her was while lounging on the couch. She jumped up, pressing her butt against my right thigh, blissfully napping. I tossed her off the couch when I got up. How I regret that. But, I didn't know.
Within a month of our relationship, she was trained, coming at my call. Femininely she would place one foot in front of the other, slowly approaching me. I have a signal I use with my hand. When she saw it, she'd get up from her perch, standing by my side, without fail.
Someone came, snatching her, rushing her to the vet, Monday night. Late into the night I got no word, my heart stranded into the land of confusing and despair. I texted the person who took her to the pet hospital at 11:08 p.m., that night, 1:34 Tuesday afternoon and 9:59 p.m., later that day What was her status? Was she gone or was she convalescing? I anticipated the worst, but hoped for the best.
This individual didn't reply until 2:37 a.m. on Wednesday, while I slept. His behavior further confirming he is not anyone I want to relate with. How insensitive, keeping me in the lurch, knowing how much I dearly loved her. I had no chance to say good bye.
But in the living room of my mind there she dwells, in all her sneezing, slurping, snorting glory. And I miss her. You know how I feel, bereft of her presence. Sorrow pierces me. My eyes are teary as I write this. My mind is numb. No traces of my usual smile shape my lips. I am depressed.
I have to bed down, get ready for a busy day tomorrow. I meet with a new client, first thing in the morning. Pray for me. I am not the innkeeper I usually am. My place is not quite the home it was, when Precious once shared it with me.
No gratitudes tonight. There's a time to laugh and there's a time to mourn.
Mourning is good. It means I am allowing my heart to feel deeply the loss I am experiencing right now. I'll talk with you tomorrow.