The OP reminds me that my cats have also seen me through some turbulence. They didn’t know what all was going on. But they were still there for me, providing stability and a sense of security when I needed it most. So thanks, sleestak, for reminding me not to take their presence for granted.
Yeah, my allergies are acting up as well. What a beautiful tribute, thank you for sharing.
A very bittersweet eulogy. HUGS
Thanks everyone for your thoughts.
Gouda misses her sister.
Gouda usually hangs out in my sock drawer. It is actually her sock drawer, I just store socks there so she can nest in them. She took it over a while ago. Gouda usualy gets a bit of food, gets a little love then hits the sock drawer. Or she hangs out in the sun in the closet window. Sometimes she gets in the cat condo in the bedroom
Today she came into my office. She sniffed around all over the place. She went and checked all the cat condos. She went into the spare bedroom where we put Roadkill to sleep (so that he doesn’t chase the girls, which is just Gouda now. Damned, it is gonna be hard to stop saying ‘the girls’) and checked it out along with the bathroom.
After that she has been on the bed all day. I go in and pet her everytime I come close to the room.
I wish I could tell Gouda what is going on. It doesn’t seem fair, somehow, for her not to know what happened to her sister. Yeah, she is just a cat. But it is obvious to me that she knows something is wrong, her sister isn’t around, and she can’t understand why. Which just makes me just that much more sad.
A death, whether it is a pet or a loved one, always makes me think about god. I am an athiest, or agnostic, depends on which day you catch me.
However, I decided today that if I die and there is an afterlife, I am going to find my cats (all of them) plus the loved ones in my life who have passed away. I am going to form a little tribe and find god.
Then I am going to call him a son of bitch and kick him in the balls. Hard.
Then I am going to go find somewhere where we can all hang out and tell each other what has happened since we last saw each other. And I am going to tell each and everyone of them that life was good because I met them and knew them and learned something valuable from each of them and that I love them.
Then I am going to find god again and give him another swift kick in the balls.
Slee
I like you more and more, slee.
Aww how sweet. My Scout sheds like an old down pillow, brings grossly unwanted half eaten mice, has the ugliest spots on his face and a meow like a girl’s. But when he lets me pet his soft furry belly a dozen times a day all is forgiven.
The reason I got two cats when I moved into my own place was so that I had something to take care of and something that needed me. I mean, they’re kitties, so it’s much more than that, but when the black dog of depression starts clawing the inside of my head, they are my anchor. They’re also damn cute.
So, I know something of the loss you’re experiencing, and I grieve with you.
A beautiful tribute to Sleestak the cat, saviour of Sleestak the human. Hugs to you, human Sleestak. You did right by your brave little cat, holding her in the end.
And you know Dagny? She was found by some nice people. And like in the thread I just started, they sometimes theorised about the nice person who had Dagny before he came to them. They remark how he must’ve been a good person, to have raised such a cute cat. That’s what I think happened to Dagny.
Sorry Slee is gone.
I had a cat named Roadkill; he was a real jerk. Lived to be 22 years old.