THE RARE SOUL MATES APPEAR

I know, it could be worse, much worse. I have to remind myself that, for the present, I still have my boon/bosom feline companion. She's altered, to be sure, and she requires much more care and attention, but she is still with me, purring and cuddling in the night. There is my pervasive sadness, now, though, not that I was Little Mary Sunshine to start with. 

It's difficult to see her be so discombobulated. She is walking a bit better and a bit more, although I encourage her to stay on the bed. She thinks about going to a dark place to wait out the weirdness as animals, cats in particular do, until the world and her command over it are restored. But then she comes out again, "Nah, I don't want to sit around in the dark."

I have to walk her up and down the two flights of stairs to the litter box in the basement until I can arrange the room to accommodate a box. But, hey! She's using it! And she's eating and drinking just fine or fine enough. 

I suppose I can try to find the blessing in this, that I will have some time to adjust to her leaving, a long good-bye, to spend quality time with her, to pay attention and not ignore her or get caught up in rushing around. And there is personal gratification when I can make her comfortable in my arms, on my lap, and she purrs herself to a secure and restful sleep.


Perhaps it is pathetic to be so attached to an animal. But her beautiful, luxurious warm fur and soft, steady purr have kept me going for the past fifteen years. I don't think I am alone in feeling somewhat touch deprived and the pleasure of petting her and her warm calming exquisite presence have fed me for these many years. If she has not kept away the darkness, she has at least staid there with me, something I could touch if not see in the worst of it.

Emmylou is a wonderful kitty, but she is more of a joker and a flirt. Hopefully, she will mellow as she gets a little bit older. Cooder and I are more temperamentally aligned. Who knows in what form the rare soul mates appear, the familiars, the members of your own tribe, your philosophical and spiritual kin?

So, she made it into her favorite rocking chair (she's been sitting in it since I got her in Berkeley in 1998 although not continually :-)) out on the screened-in porch and got herself some afternoon zzzzzs. She is not dragging her hind quarters as much and is better able to relax and rest. She still has a tough time figuring out where she is spatially and is disoriented easily. But she comes to me when I call her. And now her box and her water and her food are all in our room and there are steps to make it easier for her to get on and off the bed if she can figure out how to use them.

The bonus? I had to clean my bedroom floor which would have done a teenager proud. I got rid of some things (or rather they are downstairs by the door ready to go to the car) and made progress on the summer-to-winter clothing reorganization. 

Here's some fall color.