Just at a time when I'm about to start a new job, am in the middle of a slow, dusty and frustrating renovation, and have decided if I don't lose my post-baby blubber I might die, I got some more change going on. My cat died. He didn't turn up for dinner and I knew he was a goner. There was no pushing in front of me and the kids as we struggled to fit our bags, bodies and competitive heads into the entrance-way to our house. No, there was no bang, clunk-a-bang bang as the cat pulled on the fly-wire on the back door at night trying to get in. No moaning at the back door if you went into the kitchen at night to see what the time was, have a drink of water or avail yourself of the bathroom facilities etc. Nope, it was quiet. Which was kind of nice, given that he tended towards the annoying at times. But that annoying over-sized, stinky-breathed limping fluff-man was my constant companion for nearly 13 years and now he's gone.
So we told the kids he wasn't coming back and that it was sad etc. Then last night when I was just slopping grotty bits of plasticky pasta into bowls for the kids, our 90 year old next door neighbour fronted up with his cane a-tap-tapping across our balcony. Our woman's man neighbour is a bit of a sweet-talker usually and is desperately deaf. He is one of those oldies who is constantly fiddling with their hearing aid, in the (usually) vain hope that by tweaking the piercing feedback they'll be able to actually get beyond the tzswiiiiiiiinnnnnngggggggg and hear you. So he's really very deaf and after a more congenial attempt at describing what he found in the bushes beside his garage, he yelled "yar cat's DEAD in me back yard". Well, good thing we decided to tell the kids 1) the cat was gone 2) all about death...
So poor old puddy-tat has come to an end and we buried him last night, with the kids sprinkling some seeds across his grave. My son, who turned six today, asked "What are the seeds for?", which is a good question because it's really a bit daft to put seeds in with the corpse, after all. So I told him that every spring when the flowers come up they can think of the cat and remember how lovely he was.
So I have nearly a whole new kitchen, kids a year older, still no contract for my new job (another post altogether in that...) and birds have already settled in the back yard. I miss that annoying old boy.
2 comments:
So sorry to hear about the loss of your old friend. My little cat is getting up there in years, too.
Sprinkling seeds and telling your children they can think of their pet when the flowers come up in the spring? I think that was lovely idea.
Hope everyone is adjusting well to the changes.
It was so sad to read about your cat. Mine is 13 years old too, and if he doesn't show up for breakfast, I go out and look for him. He has always appeared, but I get nervous now because he is so old (and senile)! He is pure white with light blue eyes, but MEAN as a snake! We have two memorials to our other two cats who have passed on. Little places with stones on them. I like the planting of seeds idea.
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