First: my Rufus has
passed. He made it 18 months with prostate cancer, which was a feat
in itself. Yet, in the last 6 months, his health took a plunge. He
had to wear diapers, which he hated, and lost the use of a hind leg.
He would still go to greet people, but would drag himself to do so.
He was in pain, and I promised him I would never let him linger like
that.
On March 26th,
with his buddies Claude, Bob, Gary, and John gathered round, he went
to sleep and crossed the rainbow bridge. It was the hardest decision
I've ever made. Sometimes, it had been just Rufus and me, nagivating
the rough spots in life. Now, my bed was empty and my bunny boy was
gone...
but not quite. The next
morning, I looked down into my shoe, and saw something dark. Praying
it wasn't something breathing, I reached down...and pulled out a
Greenie! My pup had left me a treat to let me know he was OK.
As I am an avid collector
of mourning hair icons, I decided to try my hand at a memorial for my
baby. While he was still with me, I collected some of his hair and
mine. I combined and finely chopped it, then used it as the grass
upon which stood Rufus and a picture of his rainbow bridge urn. I
found a period frame for very little money, used a photo of an
existing hair icon for the background, and collaged everything
together. It now is the crowning part of my collection.
We had a lovely Irish wake
for him on May 2nd, with good friends, good foods, and
lots of laughter. I wanted a rainbow bridge balloon, but the party
store didn't have any. I ended up with a huge multi-colored
butterfly, and a square rainbow balloon. One couldn't tell if we
were celebrating his crossing the bridge, or outing him as gay.
The loss of Rufus wasn't
my only sorrow. On the morning of May 1st, my beloved
brother-in-law Guy lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. He fought
the good fight for nearly 2 years, and packed his time with a lot of
living: movies, theatre, trips to Vegas and Ireland..he did all that
he could in the months allotted him. Now, my sister is living alone
for the first time in 63 years. It's a struggle, and we all support
her as best we can, but it is something that one must ultimately do
alone – redefine one's life.
 |
| AT MY NIECE'S WEDDING IN HAPPIER TIMES: GUY AND DIANE IN BACKGROUND, NIECE ALANA, GARY AND I AT TABLE |
In the midst of all this,
I decided I did not want to live alone. I can't really take care of
another dog, so I decided I would rescue a cat. I looked carefully
around, but every time I settled on meeting one kitty or another,
they would be adopted the next morning! I felt as though the Universe
was trying to corral me down one particular shoot towards one
specific cat. I had decided to check out/ visit a beautiful orange
and white female, but made one more search at the Edison Animal
Shelter.. and there he was. I looked into the green eyes of a
beautiful Russian Blue, found as a stray and caught between the rails
at the Metuchen train station.
I had to go see him.
Claude drove. She fell in love with him the minute she saw him. I
still wasn't sure, but decided on him anyway. They said he was 2
years old...but he's actually an older kitten, one who likes to play
using nails and teeth. My arms look like connect-the-dots pages but,
with that one flaw, he really is an astounding personality.
He greets everyone at the
door, insists on going behind the computer screen to hide his catnip
mice, takes poor little John Watson captive (much like in the series.
Poor John...) and insists on pushing every piece of wall art that he
can reach sideways. It's like a personal mission with him.
So, that's where I've
been. Going forward, I will be back to more regular posting. I
have lots of neat Sherlock stuff to share, from video clips to
products.
Speak to you all soon. Oh!
I forgot to mention my kitty's name is Watson.
I am so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteThe pics of your new kitty look so much like my Stormy cat that I lost just a year ago. It's still painful to think about so I know exactly what you are going thru with the loss of your pup.
I wish you well and long life to Watson - Russian Blue's are such wonderful kitties!
Hi Kat, great to hear from you. Dear little Rufe, beautifully groomed to the end. That is a gorgeous and touching memento mori for a sweet, sweet man. I have tried twice to get a big book on mourning hair icons from the library on inter-library loan but it must be a reference book as they can't get it. One of these days I'll buy it.
ReplyDeleteI lost a rescue dog, a yellow Lab named Abby, three years ago and it still hurts. We love all our pets but there are some where the bond and the times you go through, seem deeper. Rufus sounds like one of those souls.
Watson: of course his name is Watson! He can move through the streets of London, his coat blending into the fog, and ride on hansom cabs, unnoticed. What a gorgeous fellow, and so lively. Glad you have someone, it's important to have pets.