...I just need to get that picture from off of the top of my blog. It makes my heart hurt to look at it right now.
I keep expecting to hear her come trotting down the stairs or howl at her water fountain. I also find myself turning to talk to her, and I start the silly nonsense songs I used to sing at her only to cut myself off immediately. If I'm not careful, I'm going to turn into the Crazy Lady at Number 10, the one who holds conversations with nobody anyone else can see.
I miss her a lot at bedtime. She used to walk all over me, then settle onto my chest and purr in my face.
I've already had one friend offer me a puppy from a litter she's expecting in February. It's a good thing this was done through email, so I didn't hurt her feelings (or her face) with the vehemence of my initial reaction. I haven't officially answered her yet. I hope she's taking my silence as a great big "No."
3 comments:
No pets for a space is the way to go. One day you'll feel neutral and then one day you'll begin to think about a pet. Just a thought, when you do get to that point, consider sister-cats. (Bad time to bring this up, I know, but I probably wont be in this spot to write it then!) Sister cats are wonderful and then your eggs aren't all in one basket, so to speak. I'll shut up now. Sorry.
That's what I was thinking too. Actually, Delilah was a sister cat. Well, a nister cat. I used to have a long-haired lynx-point Siamese mix who was her, um, bruncle. He was her father's brother and also her brother from another litter. Yes. Her family tree did not fork. Mom thought she got The Boys fixed in time, and then she noticed mama cat (named Mrs. Wu) walking around looking smug and thought, "Uh-oh. Who did that?" Turned out it was Oreo. Every single kitten came out marked just like him.
After the kittens were born, Mom noticed that one of the little females really got along well with my cat--she was taking care of my cat 'cause I didn't have a lease that would allow him. So I said, "I'll take her too. It'll give him a playmate."
He died years ago. Blood clot in the base of his tail. Cut off flow to his legs, kidneys, bowel. He had to get put down that very day.
I think that when I'm ready for a pet again, I'll get litter mates or something. But February? And a dog? No. Especially not the kind my friend breeds. Too high-energy, and too noisy.
After a while I was going to suggest the same thing, adopting litter mates. Chessie and Peake were brother and sister, and it was a lot of fun. (You can bet I got 'em spayed and neutered as soon as the vet suggested it.)
I often see adult cats up for adoption who've been lifelong pairs, especially at petfinder.com. It's worth thinking about if you don't want to deal with training kittens.
Only you can know when you're ready. You're going to have to be firm with these free-to-good-home donors, too, because they're all going to come out of the woodwork. It's like they can smell your grief.
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