Now Playing -
Now Eating -
Now Feeling -
He loved tuna, cold cuts, The 'Nip, naps in the sun, laser pointers, Dadda's lap, his Shmousie Ball, sitting in the clothes dryer, playing peek-a-boo with Mumma, posing for the camera, and all his various aunties and uncles and grandparents. He loved his Dadda most of all, his Alpha and Omega. His paws were edible, his belleh magically delicious, the top of his head eminently kissable.
My husband had said, about a week after we adopted him, "You know, I can't explain it, but somehow it feels like he's always been here."
Would that it could have always been the case.
Our house feels so empty now. I left his bowl of water on my bathroom floor, next to my crumpled up flannel pajamas, until it had all dried away. The door to the closet where he spent his last two nights lies open. I sleep with the little afghan that covered him as he took that long last ride to the vet.
I miss wheezy purrs and flops on the floor, poop runs and head butts. Evil claws, snaggle teeth and bunny feet. I miss a thousand nicknames and silly songs. Holding paws and roly-poly and burrowing and trot-trot-trot.
When we finally had to leave him, had to say goodbye and begin the part of our life that would now be without him, I opened up my wallet and took out our wedding picture, and tucked it in his paw. So he would have it with him. So he would know how much his parents loved him. So whoever saw it would know how much he was loved.
I used to singsong, when seeking him out after coming into the house at the end of my day, "Wished I knew where my puddy was...."
And I do. I really, really, really do.
Ernest Hemingway Waddell, Polydactyl WonderKitty
June 1(?), 2007 ~ December 31, 2013
We miss you something awful, Baby Boo.
~^ would you like to
leave word? ^~
of you lovely people have left word so
was ~ what
will be ^~
~^ randomize me! ^~
a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012