Another Festivus post, Jim? No, but thanks for asking. Seinfield (the TV show, not Jerry specifically) was often touted as: being about nothing. It was about the minutiae of daily life. Actually, Seinfield was never pitched as "a show about nothing."
This blog has been different things over the years - it started out being a way for our daughter to check in and see what we were doing, starting with our time working in Yellowstone. It has been about travel, boating, scooting, RVing, and a very integral part of it has been about the furry feline family members who have been with us through it all. Sometimes funny, often cute (yes, we think each of them have been downright cute), trying to see the world through their eyes, all the love that went both ways, and the heartbreak when the time has come for each of them to cross that Rainbow Bridge.
When I started this blog, we had Molly - she was wise and worldly. For those who don't know the story (it's in the book), Molly came to us, about 4 months after Smoke's passing. Smoke was our first cat, who lived to be almost 22 years old. I said I could never get another cat because I couldn't take the hurt that comes at the end of their life. We "dated" Molly - she came into the family through me, but she spread the love around. Molly was patient and loving, and showed us that we could make room in our hearts for another special feline. We didn't meet Molly until she was almost 6 years old, which gave us 4 adventure-filled years with that pretty girl. She was big and beautiful, and was with us when we sold the studio and retired; went boat cruising; added some RVing again; then took the first of our "fun summer jobs." Her loss was pretty sudden, when she didn't survive cancer surgery.
A few months later, I asked Joan if she was willing to look again. That led us to the local animal shelter near our home in Texas, where she saw this scrawny little girl with respiratory issues. "She needs me!" Joan said... that was so true. And thus started 9 great years with Izzy. She went from that young thing with thin fur, blossoming into what I called our feline supermodel: tall, slender, a beautiful walk, a "waif-like" look on her face, and the heart of a lioness. Where Molly walked on a leash with absolutely no training, it took some practice and patience to get little Iz comfortable with the idea of a leash. Joan brought her into the family, but again she knew to spread the love around. Izzy was like having a 3 year old little girl, approaching things with wonder and curiosity. Her story ended when we were trying to get her to Phoenix, where an animal surgeon thought he might be able to help her. She told me it was time, and it was crushing.
A short time later, we met the furry boy who I could only describe as "quirky" in appearance. Joan thought he looked like a "street fighter, a ruffian." I came up with the name Rufus from that ruffian reference. He was smart and joyful. Every meal he had was "the best ever" and he was very vocal with his thank-yous. Once he learned to walk on a leash, every walk was a fun exploration. People were attracted to him - he enjoyed the attention when we were out walking; his tail bobbed with glee as he confidently "marched." We weren't sure about getting a boy, but he turned out to be sweeter and snugglier than the girls... he wanted to be on your lap, or sitting beside you, with a paw touching you. He spooned, always looking for a belly rub. He was a big burly boy with luxurious, full fur. He liked being brushed, and we had a regular routine where I'd play guitar and sing, while Joan brushed him. Our vet declared him a Maine Coon mix - the boy really blossomed in the first 6 months we had him. He went from quirky to ruggedly handsome.
We took him to the vet after getting to Arizona, thinking a cough he developed might be an allergy to something in the desert. My heart dropped when I saw the look on the face of the vet after she saw Rufus's X-rays... the news seriously bad. An ultrasound confirmed that he was "at the end of life." We did everything we could to make him comfortable and had 10 days to tell him how much we love him and what joy he brought to our lives... and say our good-byes. He didn't get much time to enjoy the new house or the landscaping that we knew would be great for him to walk around.
Since Rufus's passing, it has been tough for me to write something each day. I know a lot of it has been "about nothing." Daily life. With a lot of the life in our days feeling less than lively. Ruf was the first cat that had us around all the time - we were "re-retired" before we got him. Our daily routines were built around his feeding schedule, grooming, snuggling, and the walks that he and I shared. To say we miss all that would be a huge understatement... the part that hurts my heart the most is not having that joyful spirit with us.
We are both ready to bring another cat into our lives. The right situation will present itself at some point. We are not looking for a feline to "fill the void" - we gave Rufus a great life and he brought us great joy. I don't know if we have been fortunate to have "picked" 4 great cats, or if we have given each of them the opportunity to develop into great cats. Each has been unique and very different from the others... none of them, however, were the stereotype "aloof" feline. Each came to us in a different way, even though each of them needed to be rescued. We have a Christmas ornament on the tree that says "Who Rescued Who?" with a photo of Rufus. A good question. Each of our cats has helped grow our hearts, and then left a cat-sized hole when they passed.
This blog has grown a lot over the years. The number of people who look in on it often surprises me. The daily numbers fluctuate, but I know there are plenty of people out there who click on it to see if there is any cat content. I can assure you that my heart, mind, and soul are hoping for more cat content.
No comments:
Post a Comment