Monday, September 27, 2010
It's Only a Cat
I'll confess something. I didn't want Pearl. I had two cats. It was plenty. Taking in another would mean a long integration, difficult in my small apartment. Pearl was unlike any cat I'd ever had. More independent, more snooty than any cat I've ever lived with. I took her because who would adopt a 6 year old, black, gimpy legged cat? And she really was a handful. She was not happy with Sugar at all. She took months to integrate. I didn't understand her. She was definitely more like a roommate than a pet. But she was smart. She swore like a sailor when I could eventually just say "NO" to chasing Sugar and not put her in time out. She stopped, but she chuntered under her breath as she walked away from the hunt as if to say, "You always take her side. Boy, some friend YOU are. You don't understand me. I don't know why I stay here." *huff*. But she was a character and she was her own being. And I began to really appreciate her for being herself and not for cuddling and being "cute". She was like a naughty little sister by then.
For many people like me and you, who are taking time to read this blog, it isn't just a pet. It's a family member. It's SOMEONE. They make US someone. They teach us things.
Then, she got ill. And iller. And she let me poke her ears and stick things on her face to breath and stick things in to her neck (well, OK, shots are probably not even felt, so maybe it doesn't count). She sits when I say "Sit" for her blood tests. She teaches me patience. She comes for cuddles even though it's rare that I am not DOING something to her to control an issue. How can you not love that? And how can you think "it's only a cat"?
Now she is 15 and arthritic and she walks a bit like the drunken sailor she once swore like. She is grayer and allergies make her itch. The arthritis makes it hard for her to groom regions I'd rather not go, but have to so she can stay tidy. But she's still funny and seems happy enough and still occasionally chases Sugar and Sugar actually likes it. I know the day will come when I will have to part with this irascible character but I will always be thankful to her. I will always be glad she was "just" a cat.
Recently I read the most beautiful article. "With Pets as 'part of the family', grief hits hard when they pass" by Anthony Breznican of USA Today. It's well worth the look and definitely view the video. It begins "I didn't want this cat".
I totally understand. Updated link: Updated link Pet Grief
Video Sinatra's Good-bye
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Diagnosis can be Overwhelming
I'm not insisting that we be brimming with hope. It is ok not to be optimistic. Buddhist teaching says a feeling that you have to maintain hope can wear you out. The biggest gift that you can give is just to be absolutely present. Whether your worrying about being hopeful or hopeless, pessimistic or optimistic; who cares, the main thing is showing up. That you're here and finding ever more capacity to love this world, because it will not be able to be healed without that. That is what is going to unleash our intelligence and ingenuity. And our solidarity for healing the world. -- Joanna Macy in an Interview with Krista Tippett on Being (Episode - A Wild Love of the World - September 16, 2010) Blog entry
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
—Rilke’s Book of Hours, I, 59
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Dear Mom
Dear Mom,
I know it's only been a couple of days, but there are a few things I'd like to tell you.
First of all, you really do have to calm down, because you're stressing me out.
Please at least let me get all the way out of the litter box before you start to inspect it.
Don't stare at me while I'm eating. It makes me nervous. I need a little privacy please.
You really don't have to follow me from one room to the next. I'm not doing anything that I haven't done a million times before. I'm still trying to catch those pesky fish that live behind the glass. I'm chasing the dust bunnies under your desk. I'm waiting to catch Libby (drooler) off guard so I can smack her and run. I'm doing all those catly things I've always done. I don't need a perpetual audience.
Just because I'm sleeping, doesn't mean that you need to wake me up and check on me every five minutes. I'm a cat. I sleep.
I feel hot because I've been lying in my favorite sunny spot in the office. Yes, that really is the only reason.
I know it would make you feel better if I slept in your bed with you, but it wouldn't make me feel better. I've never done that before, so it would feel funny to start doing it now. Besides, I really like my bed. I've had it a long time, you know.
It doesn't mean that something is wrong with me just because I don't want to play. Don't you remember the rules? When you want to play with me, I want to ignore you and treat you with disdain. I want to play with you when you are reading the newspaper or attempting to drink your first cup of coffee. This has always worked for us, so why would I want to
change that now? So if I don't want to play with you, it doesn't necessarily mean that I don't feel good. It means that I'm just being the Rainbow I've always been.
Stop lecturing (boyfriend) every time you leave the house for five minutes. He has read everything you have. He was there at the vet's when you picked me up. He knows all the signals/symptoms of hypo, and he knows what to do. He knows where the syrup is. How could he not, since it's now in every room in the house. Remember when you told me that you would trust him with your life? Well trust him with mine. He loves you, and he won't let anything happen to me.
You know that pounding headache you've had since last Sunday? It might go away if you'd chill out just a little bit.
And lastly, every single sound I make need not be analyzed for meaning. Just because I speak to you, it doesn't mean I'm sick or hurting or getting ready to go hypo. I've always been a very vocal kitty. Sometimes a meow really is just a meow.
Love,
Your Sugar Cat
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Written by Laura and Rainbow. We couldn't agree more with its sentiment.