Lucy and Lily

Hi Cat Friends! I received an email from one of us who is grieving over the loss of his cat. I emailed him yesterday to see how he was feeling, and upon receiving his response tonight, I realized I needed to share something with him that happened today. I wrote down my story for him and then I thought that maybe this will help another one of us who still grieves inside too. So I copied it for the group.

Here `tis:

I had a cat named Cowboy. He was a 25 lb. monster! (One year old at the time). His front feet pointed inwards, and he had an underbite. He looked like the cat version of a bulldog. (White and orange tabby). I got him when I was in college, hence... very poor! My roommate and I really "splurged" if we went to Burger King! One night, we came home with or BK burgers. I had one bite outta mine, sittin' next to my fries on the kitchen table. Roomy (roommate) took her meal to her room while she studied. I got up for something (bathroom I think), and when I came back, my burger and fries were gone. The wrapping was on the floor, Cowboy was eating the cheese left over stuck on the wrapping, and not one fry was left (not even the hard, crunchy, icky kind that we humans don't even eat)! I wanted to kill that cat! I was so upset! I called my mom, told her what had happened, and within a half hour ,she was over at my apartment with another BK meal! (I guarded it with my life)! She told me again and again, not to be mad at Cowboy.

Christmas rolled around, and I was dating a boy named Bruce. (He was positively dreamy... or should I say, "the cat's meow"?)! Bruce bought me a live Christmas tree, a tree stand and a box of green ornaments, and surprised me at my apartment one night. We (me and Roomy) were thrilled! Me, Roomy and Bruce headed to K-Mart for more decorations. When we got home with bells, whistles and bows for the tree, we found Mr. Tree knocked over, the water from the stand spilled everywhere, and every ornament was either broken or missing. As I walked around the apartment, I found ornaments every where. Again, Cowboy had destroyed my tiny bit of happiness... (We were pretty sure he climbed up the tree, knocked it over, and batted every ornament around he could find.) That was it! I didn't want him anymore. He was eating me out of apartment and home, and destroying all that was in it.

Cowboy's disposition was tough. He didn't like to be held, he didn't really like to be touched. He followed me around everywhere in the apartment though. Well, Mom and Dad took him for me. Within two weeks, my mother who is 4'11", had that cat hanging over her shoulder (paws around each side of Mom's neck), and he drooled when she pet him! (Like I said, cat version of a bulldog). She would let him eat ice cream out of the bowl with her. She cooked an extra piece of chicken at dinner time for him, and they started letting him be an indoor/outdoor cat. He became "The" cat.

Cowboy lived until he was 10. He never missed a meal, and was always home at dinner time in case Mom cooked something that he had an invitation to as well. One day he didn't come home. On the second day, Mom knew something was wrong. On the third day (they called out for him, searched for him, left food out for him), a neighbor called and said that Cowboy was in her backyard laying under a tree and he had not moved. The neighbor said she was afraid to go out there, for fear of confirming Cowboy's fate. Mom went over with a blanket, and retrieved Cowboy's body. He didn't have a mark on him, and it looked liked like he was sleeping, but it was obvious that he wasn't.

When Mom called me that afternoon, she was hysterical. What scared me so bad was that I heard the words "hurt and death", but she didn't mention a name. I thought it was my father. I was freaking out trying to get the information out of her. When she was finally able to explain, I was relieved, but also devastated. Cowboy was the ultimate cat. He was tougher than nails (killed rabbits snakes and brought them home for Mom!). He even hurt another cat so bad that my parent's had to pay for this cat's recovery through their homeowner's insurance! (The young, male cat made the mistake of coming into the garage while Cowboy was sleeping on Dad's workbench.)

There is still a hole in my mom's heart for Cowboy. That was 6 or 7 years ago. Since then, two of the other cats they have had passed. The last one, Bubba, was "it". My folks said, *no more*. It was just too painful. Too many tears shed for such little souls.

Last April, I visited my parents. I didn't tell them why I was coming. I just showed up with two orange and white female kittens. I had named them Lily and Lucy. Now, since Lily and Lucy are nearing one year of age, my parent's are so in love again, I am amazed! "The girls" are all they talk about. Dad works out of the house now, so he has an office upstairs. The girls spend the entire day with Dad. At night, Mom is their pal. She watches TV, and they play around her. My parents really meant it when they said no more. The reason why I told you this long story is because I talked to Mom today. She, of course, told me what the girls were into (catnip in a paper bag), and then said something that stuck with me. She said, "I finally realize what the 'circle of life means'. You can lose, yet love again." And then she thanked me for Lily and Lucy.

I felt like someone had given me a big hug, or a huge present with a big bow on it! It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So, please, remember, you can lose, yet love again.

Purrs for your heavy heart.

Copyright © Laurie Halliday
February 10, 1999