Do not go gentle into that good night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Miep is of this school. She has always been an impatient and bossy kitty and besides being in pain, she seems really pissed. Scowling at pain and death. Annoyed at her discomfiture.


Every one in awhile she comes out of hiding, making an attempt to be with me and Cooder, hang out and stuff. But then the darkness and pain come over her and she goes back to her safe space to hide from the pain and wait out the danger.


I got Miep in the wake of the death of another kitty, Sidonie. I got Sido and Cooder at the Berkeley Animal Shelter at the same time. We all moved to Greenwich Village. Sido had been sickly as a kitten and did not live very long. I clearly remember screaming when I found her dead on my bed.


I needed another cat. Miep was an unwed mother, half Siamese, half Russian Blue, that was sheltered at the 5th Avenue Cat Clinic. They called her Hurricane. She got a bead on me so I brought her home.


The song, They Can't Take that Away From Me, has always been a favorite. Miep had more unique behaviors than an kitteh I have ever owned. I think I have mentioned that all I had to do was get near the bed and she would be up on it, miaowing orders at me. She always helped me make the bed. Often, we played "Get Out of the Tangled" sheets.


She would never let me be in the bathroom without her, even if the door was closed she'd be trying to open it. She would get into the bathtub and chase her tail. She was expert at tail chasing.


She had an excellent range of miaows and always greeted me at the door.


Since Maria died and things were calmer, she often slept next to me, hip to hip, or stretched out alongside me so that I could rub her belly. 


I miss her already. All of "that" her is already gone. And in not too long, her pain will be over. Not so much for me.