I have an anniversary coming up next week, as many of you know, and it’s been on my mind as one might expect. Still tough, you know?
This year, though, I have a little bit of emotional support, and so the prospect of remembrance doesn’t seem quite as bleak. De tail’s below the fold.
This is Nosy. He sits on my lap while I write. He’s a good boy and I thought those of you who haven’t met him ought to.
What a beautiful kitty! Maine coon, I’m guessing?
Kitty!
There’s nothing like a cat to “help” a person write. There’s also nothing like an animal that needs you to make the days easier.
Coon kitty! Excellent!
Hi Nosy! Looks like he nose how much he’s loved!
That picture of Zeke running in the Elysian fields is one of my favorites!
Pablo wants to know why you’ve detained his brother.
Also, KITTY!
Who’s my good boy? Who’s my fluffy sweetheart? Oh, look, Nosy’s here too!
/ducks
/ducks are /downy, not /fluffy.
Depends on how long you keep them in the /food /processor.
ERROR 401 YOU ARE NOT OSTERIZED TO SPREAD THIS CANARD
What a sweetie! He looks like a cuddler.
He’s gorgeous, Chris. Looks like good company even if his story ideas are a bit fuzzy.
Tabby or not tabby?
For a cat, he does have a noble beak.
He’s a long-haired Bengal. I adopted him from a rescue - a breeder gave him up because his long hair makes him ineligible to be a show cat.
It’s not a bug, it’s a feature!
Kitty!
And… (((Chris)))
Chris,
My deepest sympathies. I lost Taz a year ago Saturday. I’d been denying my grief until a good friend called me on it a few months ago. Been wrestling with it ever since. Not claiming any similarities between our situations—you’ve been very open about your feelings. Just writing to say I’ve learned things can get better.
Been dreading the anniversary for, well, just about a year. Decided to tackle the day head on. Taz wasn’t doing me any good in a sealed box on the bookcase. I pried the top open with a utility knife, got in the car, drove to San Francisco. Took Taz back to his first park to look around. Carried him around Alamo Square where we lived after every other part of my life fell apart. Went to Crissy Field and remembered the many walks, storms, sticks, waves, and the time the sea lion popped up next to him in the water. Ended up on Bernal Hill at dusk. Thought about him on the hill when he was a puppy. Thought about our daily walks up there when he was 12 and of the time he cornered the local coyote and they sniffed, licked, and then quietly parted ways.
I found a nice spot on the north side of the hill. As the sun set and the lights came on in San Francisco I poured his ashes into a gopher hole. As I sat and cried a pair of pugs came running down the path, stopped at Taz’s gopher hole, sniffed, and started digging him back out.
It’s been nearly a week. The hurt’s still there, but a little less so than before. Maybe it’s because I find I smile every time I think of the pugs.
Best wishes.
Ron
I’ll be thinking of you on the 3rd. I lost my Lucy, aka Sleek, last August, and I still cry on many days. Her sister, now 13, will soon be getting a little brother—litter is expected first week of February. I’m glad you have Nosy now.