The Lost Kitty

This long-haired cat showed up in the laundry room at Deb's apartment one day. Some people were feeding it, and a little girl named the cat Rachel.

The story goes that Rachel belonged to a family that moved and left her behind.

As always, Deb fell in love with the cat instantly, but knew she couldn't keep her with Boo Kitty around. This was before we lived together, so she coaxed me into taking her on a trial basis.

I wasn't a cat person. At least I didn't think I was. So I said I'd try it for a few days, and if it didn't work, off to the pound she'd go.

Deb, of course, was counting on the fact that I wouldn't have the heart to take the cat to the pound.

So Rachel and I became roommates. She was a pretty intuitive cat. She got lost when I didn't want to be bothered, but she wasn't shy about seeking attention. I made a bed for her out of a box and a blanket, but she found a spot on the foot of the bed to claim, and that became her spot. She, unlike most cats, slept at night, and when I woke up, she'd still be at the foot of the bed.

I bought her a couple of toys, but when I tried to play with her, she looked at me like, "You've got to be kidding."

Yeah, that was the moment I became a cat person.

The first week was fine. At the beginning of the second week, though, I noticed she wasn't eating. Then she stopped drinking. And there wasn't anything to scoop out of the litterbox.

I called Deb, and she said I was probably worrying over nothing, but if it went on for another day we'd take her to a vet.

It did, and off to the only vet we could find on a Sunday, the one at PetSmart.

A blood test confirmed the worst. Rachel's kidneys weren't functioning. We could try an expensive treatment, but there were no guarantees.

As Rachel's owner, the decision was mine, but Deb had to help me make it. So we put her down.

It was the first time Deb and I cried together. It wasn't the last.

After that, Deb would thank me for making Rachel's last days comfortable. I think it was an important step in her beginning to trust me.

I suppose looking back, there are parallels to our lives together and that cat. How I wasn't certain how it was going to go when I entered into it, but I came to cherish it quickly, only to find it was over much too soon.

But I don't want to reduce Rachel to a metaphor. She was the cat that brought Deb and I closer together, and even though we were only together for a short time, she played an important part in our lives.

Goodnight, Rachel.

I've got nothing

Being Valentine's Day, you'd think I'd have something to say today.

Nope.

We always said Valentine's Day is for amateurs, for those who can't say "I love you" the other 364.

That still goes.

That's all.

Open my eyes

You ever have something staring you in the face every day but you don't really see it?

On my desk is a silly piece of paper. It was left on my pillow one of the first nights after Deb and I moved in together. It's a picture of a heart with the words "I love you" written over it.

I glanced at it every once in a while, but tonight was the first time that I looked at it in a long time and paid attention to it.

It was written in pencil, pretty quickly. The writing is crooked, the heart isn't perfect. I guess she just decided on the spur of the moment to surprise me with a little note just before bed, because she knew she'd be asleep when I got home.

I stuck it up on my desk and it's been there ever since, through two moves. She even mentioned it once, about how silly it looked.

It's been up so long I stopped paying attention to it. It was just part of the room.

Tonight I looked at it and realized what it is.

It's what I thought I lost when her last phone message to me got erased. It's a permanent symbol of her telling me she loves me. And I've still got it.

Yes, there are losses. But there are some things you never lose.

The story never ends

I went on the Barenaked Ladies cruise again this year, and like last year I had one of those moments where I was acutely aware that someone who should have been there wasn't.

I was at the stern of the boat (that's the back end for you landlubbers), looking at the moon reflect off the water, and I missed Deb. She should have been there, and we should have been holding hands.

In an earlier post, you can read about how on last year's cruise I was missing her and somehow pictures of her turned up on my camera.

The next day, I was looking for my watch, which I stashed in the luggage after we got to the airport so I wouldn't have to worry about it going through security and I found this in the pocket of my suitcase:




It's the friendship ring I gave to her our second Christmas together to make up for the mood ring I gave her on the first.

Since she died, I have looked everywhere for it. I was going to put it with the engagement ring and wedding band in her ashes. Afterward, I presumed it got lost in one of the moves.

What are the odds it would turn up just when I needed to see it the most?

Even now, she amazes me.