I can only handle so much thwarting at a time
I am full of chocolate stout -- which I purchased when I realized I'd procrastinated too long to get to the gym.
When I came home from bookclub Friday, my dad was holding the cat on his lap. She'd died a little while earlier. Thursday had been a really bad day for Tink, and though she'd rallied Friday... I can't say it was a surprise. She's clearly been feeling poorly for awhile. Still, it's sad; she was part of our family for a long time. Dad's taking it the hardest -- final proof that she really was his puppy, I guess. When we first got Tinkerbell, she collected nicknames. One was puppy, because D and I were fighting over what her name would be and each claiming "she comes to [whichever name one of us preferred]!" Mom's response to that line of argument was "she comes to anything said in the right voice" and proceeded to call "puppy, puppy, c'mere puppy" until the kitten tottled over. She kept that nickname when we discovered she would play fetch -- and she loved Dad best and affectionately gnawed on him whenever possible which to our thinking was clearly a puppy thing to do. She mostly grew out of the gnawing.
There are all these places that a cat should be and isn't. And that's strange. But it doesn't hurt as badly as losing Kit did. At least, not yet. I guess I'll see.
Today, we drove down to see D, since her birthday is coming up. Dad hates that we had to tell her about the cat. It was a good visit, though short. She's visibly exhausted from school. The end of her surgery unit cannot come too soon.
Now, Sherlock Holmes is on my television, I've almost completed a project and started a second, I am finishing my drink... and then I am going to bed.
This entry was originally posted here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently
comments.
When I came home from bookclub Friday, my dad was holding the cat on his lap. She'd died a little while earlier. Thursday had been a really bad day for Tink, and though she'd rallied Friday... I can't say it was a surprise. She's clearly been feeling poorly for awhile. Still, it's sad; she was part of our family for a long time. Dad's taking it the hardest -- final proof that she really was his puppy, I guess. When we first got Tinkerbell, she collected nicknames. One was puppy, because D and I were fighting over what her name would be and each claiming "she comes to [whichever name one of us preferred]!" Mom's response to that line of argument was "she comes to anything said in the right voice" and proceeded to call "puppy, puppy, c'mere puppy" until the kitten tottled over. She kept that nickname when we discovered she would play fetch -- and she loved Dad best and affectionately gnawed on him whenever possible which to our thinking was clearly a puppy thing to do. She mostly grew out of the gnawing.
There are all these places that a cat should be and isn't. And that's strange. But it doesn't hurt as badly as losing Kit did. At least, not yet. I guess I'll see.
Today, we drove down to see D, since her birthday is coming up. Dad hates that we had to tell her about the cat. It was a good visit, though short. She's visibly exhausted from school. The end of her surgery unit cannot come too soon.
Now, Sherlock Holmes is on my television, I've almost completed a project and started a second, I am finishing my drink... and then I am going to bed.
This entry was originally posted here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently
comments.