Yesterday afternoon Jane and I went for a walk to try to get new air into our lungs, and came back to find OSG had come over from work, being unable to raise us by phone. We went out to the Swinging Door and had supper, which was really all I can remember eating yesterday.
It was real hard sleeping. Ysabel was there every night of my life, even on the road, even at conventions, for 15 years with very few exceptions, from the time when, as a tiny kitten, she managed to brace her tiny kitten feet and shove me right out of bed, a feat she accomplished twice in her life: grab the sheets with the foreclaws and shove with the back feet… 😉
Well, Seishi just is very wary of any place she claimed and he wasn’t about to go near the bed.
I slept maybe 3-4 hours last night, and at about 3 am got up to get a drink of water. Seishi turned up in the kitchen, from wherever he’s spent his nights; and I carried him into my room, but he wouldn’t stay—not too suprised or upset about that. Around dawn Jane nudged him into my room and he and I settled for about five minutes. Hey, we’re gaining on it.
He was willing to be brushed, sitting by the front window, where I do my first cup of coffee and think about story, every morning. So he’s done his first job as a Writer’s Official Cat.
There’s no replacing Her Furry Grace. Like a force of nature, she remains unique among all cats, —though as I’ve said, if she had any spare lives, it was my fierce first cat, Tabby, no other name, who when she lost her litter of kittens to a dog that invaded our garage, rescued one black kitten. She showed up injured, and we took care of her; we had no idea she had a kitten left, but she’d drop out of sight a lot of the day, for weeks. And finally she showed up with her one little ink-black kitten. So black kittens were Tabby’s thing, and certainly they were Ysabel’s: she brought up two of them, Efanor and Shu, and knew lordly Elrond, Jane’s magnificent fellow, when she was a kitten herself.
We had to get Sei to cope with Shu, who’s just a live wire; and I couldn’t take any time away from Ysabel’s daily schedule, or neglect her in any wise. I just had to find extra time for Seishi. And it’s going to be confusing for Sei for a while—it certainly is for me. He’s very different, so much like my dear old Khym-kitty, and tall: you pick him up and he’s all legs and tail; but he has a very good purr.
I miss Ysabel. I miss her so much. I miss her little tricks like grabbing my hand to tell me to brush the other side, now, please. I miss her plopping down on my arm to sleep—and staying there for hours; I miss her bright blue eyes, and her wonderful cooperative way in the car; or the fact she’d dog my heels every day, all day long—when I’d move, she’d move, and park on my lap if I had a moment, or close by, if I had to work. It takes a long time to build up that kind of relationship. Sei’s got a lot to learn.
And he’ll be his own cat. They all are. We’ll find how we best work together, in special ways, and we will do that.
But in the history of very special cats I’ve had, what can I say? Ysabel was Her Furry Grace, unique, and wonderful.
How fortunate you were to have had her. And she to have had you.
I am wondering if you have ever had a cat who will prove to be a successor before the first one is gone, before. So many complicated feelings with this. I am so glad you are so experienced with kitties. Seishi has a big hole to fill, except that you know that’s not his job. Just like Jane knew it wasn’t Eushu’s job to fill Efanor’s place.
I am so glad, though, that Seishi is there to find his way into your lap as he is already in your heart.
Well, you never stop missing the ones that are gone, do you. I still miss my old (12 years ago) gone ones, even while my time and attention are fully occupied with the new ones. That’s what love is.
Some day I’ll share with you my child’s essay on her feelings when Py’s brother got sent to Tacoma. (He’s the one that bit the spouse and put him into the hospital for a long weekend). The child was I think nearly 3 when it happened and about 6 when she wrote the essay and it still brings tears to my eyes. I’ll show it to OSG when she’s here this winter.
That just brought tears to my eyes. Tears of remembrance for my gone ones too. They have a way of grabbing your heart, don’t they?
The Saturday after the terrible Friday that I lost Shadow, I awoke with Gobi’s head pillowed on my outstretched hand. The Sunday after, I dropped an ice cube on the floor, washed it off and put it in the kittehs’ water dish like I always did — Shadow was fascinated by ice cubes in her water. Then I remembered and just sat down on the kitchen floor and cried for at least half an hour. The boys came and lay down with me, one on each side. She had only been with me for 7 years. Two years ago, I sent her 12-year-old brother/littermate to join her. We fought the good fight against diabetes for four years, but when he began to go into organ failure, I knew it was time to say goodbye. If we did not love them so much, it would not hurt so much to lose them. But once you’ve known that kind of love, a life without it is not much of a life.
It took me months after I lost Toby, a very special cinnamon brown tabby, a boon companion for thirteen years, before I felt ready for another cat. Thus Goober, who is now equally dear, and will be five this Halloween, the day I adopted him. (Just happened like that, not on purpose.) Goober is a refined gentleman, terribly non-assertive, and with a great sense of humor he hides. His name comes from a lovable klutzy tendency. This year-end will mark Smokey’s second year, a very special little rescue and much like Eushu in personality and looks. (Also, he learned to open drawers. How does one apply for Compact papers, cit-i-zen? It’s about to that.)
Very sorry to miss Ysabel, and I feel sure Seishi and Eushu are wise in giving you and Jane, and themselves, time to adjust.
I always want to say Ysabel as if it were medieval French, probably influenced by Ysabeau from Ladyhawke. A fine name for a fine grande dame féline.
WOL posted: “But once you’ve known that kind of love, a life without it is not much of a life.”
Yes. So true.
Kokipy, I will be looking forward to reading that essay, and snuggling with your babies come early December. Keep those hankies ready.
About a month ago I decided it was time to start searching for a new kitteh after living without a furry footwarmer since March. With all the assorted twists life has a tendency to throw, I didn’t actually get a chance to actively look, although I did find out the local humane society is linked to the PetFinder site you have linked over to the left and checked some of the options out there. I finally got a chance to get in today, and after spending two hours meeting all the kittehs, I found a very sweet little tabby girl following me home. Right now she’s hiding behind a pile of laundry, but I’m sure once she gets used to being in a house she’ll finally let me know what her name is.
I still miss Mitts, but its certainly time for a new furry-face to chase me around! Thanks for the link!
I’m so happy for you, Weeble!
AWW. Wonderful to hear!
They do have their own ways don’t they? I’m feeling a little down myself because Beekle is going through a major moult and is keeping himself to himself. Normally he’ll follow me around or just sit on my shoulder but not for the last couple of weeks. He’s lost a lot of flight feathers and the difficulty of flying and the strain of replacing them seems to mean he either spends all day in his cage or on the most distant perch looking out at the garden (where my Avatar picture was taken). I dare say that the shorter days aren’t helping either of us. Our clocks go back this weekend so that’s the end of light evenings for several months. In a few weeks I’ll be commuting in darkness in both directions 🙁
Anyway Beekle should come out of it in the next week or so. Until then I’ll keep an eye on him and leave him be. He must eight around about now and that’s getting on for a budgie. He can be a bit annoying when he’s so clingy (took me a while to teach him to stay off my laptop keyboard) but now that he’s sitting quietly and minding his own business it feels wrong.
Here’s hoping Beekle will feel himself again soon.
Some years ago Jade, my senior cat, began to fail. He’d been my bedmate for years; Merlin, junior cat, found another spot in the bedroom but obviously considered the bed off limits. The first night that Jade was gone, Merlin quietly took up a place on the bed, stayed there the rest of the nights of his life. Indeed, as andruec said, our pets do have their own ways.
I still remember lying on the bed doing crossword puzzles, and Ruthie was on the other side. She had finally gotten to the point of not running away whenever I’d come into the bedroom. So, when I first came in, there was the obligatory petting, scritching, etc., with her, and then she moved back over to her side of the bed. I went back to doing puzzles, and about 5 minutes later, there was a very distinct smack on my back. I turned over to look, and was transfixed by a pair of green eyes that seemed to say, “How dare you stop petting me! I am not finished yet.” Sadly, I lost her to kidney failure a few months later. For the time I had her, she was difficult to assure her of my good intentions. Only at the last part of her life did she start showing affection for me. She was about 10 when she got sick. That seems young, but for half of her life, she was a feral cat. That she was able to adopt (and adapt to) me was remarkable, and even the shelter was amazed at that.
Yes, I understand the very great sense of loss when a beloved pet is gone. I dread when I have to give Birdie her final time, too. I’ve had her for 8 years now, and she’s been declining as well, having reached somewhere near 11 years old.
Again, condolences to you, CJ, to Jan, to Sei, and to Shu.