For many many years I had "My Special Boys". They used to sleep with the eldest, Tab,(who predated 2 of our children) at my head, the second, Sebastian, at my side and the youngest, Oliver, at my feet. Our home was fairly isolated until very recently and I have allowed my cats outside. They didn't need to leave the yard to have plenty of space. In 2008 my big, 10 year old,15 lb., lump of sweet Sebastian was killed by someones loose dogs while laying on his own front porch. It never occurred to him to be scared. He loved dogs. And it broke my heart. While I grieved Tab slept on my pillow to comfort me and Oliver, quietly slipped up, and snuggled at my side. In 2009 my 17 year old Tab had become delicate and frail. It was so hard watching him decline. He was part of the family so long. But it was time for him to go. And it broke my heart. That night as I lay down on a cold and empty pillow, my baby boy Oliver quietly curled around my head and began to purr in my ear. He had finally earned top spot in the bed. He was always competitive. But he was always equal in my heart, from the day I brought him home.
And he kept on going. My buddy, always available for a snuggle, my shadow from room to room. This March he reached his 18th birthday. Quite an accomplishment for our competitive cat. He made it to oldest cat we have ever had. And once he got there: He decided he did not wish to go outdoors anymore. And that was just fine. We immediately accommodated him with his own private bathroom and litterbox. He had slowed down a bit. His vision was not so good and he had trouble navigating jumps. That's fine. I was there to lift him up and down when needed. In the sink for a drink-which was the only acceptable way, on the kitchen counters because he earned it, on the kitchen table because...I gave up that fight long ago, and even my bed, which is high and requires a step-he began to use it. For the past month he has been even more constant a companion than ever. Wherever I was, he was. Not just there but on me. No longer beside me on the desk. He must be in my lap. On the couch he was on my chest looking right in my eyes and would act like he was mortally wounded if I moved him, so I didn't. I suffocated my way thru many a show and book because...he was my kitty and he was old...and I loved him. When the girls talked about me getting a kitten I said no. Oliver deserved my undivided attention. He earned it and I couldn't imagine anything new. Except for being more slow and creaky and kind of blind, we marveled at how well he did. We all speculated on whether he would make it to twenty. And then. Last Saturday he was fine in the morning. I worked much of the day and that evening noticed he was more quiet and still than usual. As I always do at bed time I rounded up my book and tablet and phone and something to drink and my cat and headed to bed. Not to sleep. I read or watch tv till my husband kicks me out then I come back upstairs till 12. So anyway, As we lay in bed our Voo Kitty snuggled close and tucked his face tight against my arm. We were concerned but he was very old. We thought we might be entering a new stage and wondered how it would go. He stayed pressed tight against me. In the morning my husband got up early and came to wake me. I had a half hour to hold my precious boy and talk to him while he slipped from this world. Gone. My kitty is gone. My Voo..
and now...
There is no one to help me make the bed
There is no one to help me set the table
no one to eat the left over fruit and vegetables-or even the whole tomatoes left on the counter
he was vegetarian...
No one to help with planting in the spring
or keep my seat warm in the winter
no one to type me important notes on my computer sticky notes
no one to help me brush my teeth
and no one to curl up and purr me through my book
and no one to slink up and take their place beside my head and purr into my ear.
And my heart is broken.
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