...it's been awhile since I've posted, as life has been busy. Teatea is never far from the front of my thoughts, and always in my heart. The kittens in the back room are now 8 weeks old and full of WAY too much energy (well, compared to a 18+ year old cat anyways!) and I love them all dearly for their personality, joy de vivre and hilarity...but none has the power to help me completely numb the pain of losing my best furry friend.
Teatea's most memorable (and at time mortifying) traits was her ability to scare the bejeezus out of just about anyone. One time she chased a construction worker out of my home (we were adding a wee bathroom onto our small one bedroom home)...he had to hide behind a laundry basket and wave it by his feet to get out unscathed. It happened again with a home repair guy....this one used his tool bag to escape. The funniest (and possibly scariest) was when I was minding my own business doing sit ups (yes this was a long time ago) on my floor....Teatea was about 15 or so and I think she had a sanity break, because all of a sudden she was on my face ~grabbing my head with her front claws, biting my face and rabbit kicking under my chin...with great intent. One minute I was doing situps, the next minute my face was being attacked my very own cat. Who even knows what was going through her mind at that time. I know what was going through mine though!! "WHAT THE??!!!!" [= I still miss her...despite the regular blood draws. She still makes me smile...... =^..^=
It is horrible to lose a dear dear friend. Horrible. Nothing wonderful about it. I sob all the time, remembering friends past long ago. I think it's good to sob when one has to. Late at night when I'm worn out or in pain is the worst time. I lost my Hopi last year, my first cat. I still reach for her, wake up calling for her. For Moby, too, lost two days before Hopi died, last year. My Moby. I lost a lot of cats last year. Lost old Scully, my old river cat. Lost old Butterscotch, the old gal abandoned on campus. She had a good last few years, instead of living under that awful porch over there alone. Scully loved being loved, off the river, living a strays life as an old gal, too hard on her. I was happy to have given her love and respite in her final years, a retirement from her very hard life. They're gone and I miss them. But they had love at least, and a sanctuary and my arms and my heart. I will never regret taking any of them in. I hope the pain gets less sharp over time. Maybe those kittens will help.
ReplyDeleteStrayer, thank you for your kind words, even in my absence of seeing them til now! [= I know that time should heal all wounds but grieving for our furballs is somehow different. I hope that somehow time has taken some of the edge off the grief for you and that Hopi and the rest have found their way back to you in spirit and in love....stronger than ever. =^..^=
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