Our cat and I were never “close” so to speak. He typically hung with “Moma” and followed her everywhere throughout the house. They were never apart. Any place she was, he was there as well. Losing her was something I’m sure was a great tragedy to him. It’s been nearly 8 weeks since she left us. He has spent most of his time in my closet, under my bed, and sleeping on the patio when the evening was cool. I never really saw him cry but I’m sure he did. I’ve had that cat for over 10 years. He was never affectionate. He was never “lovey-dovey,” nor did he really want someone to pet him. My cold little watch cat.
Today, he seems different. Today he jumped up on the couch and laid on my chest several times. His little nose drooled all over my shirt as he purred his way to sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to move. I stayed there. Uncomfortable and wanting to turn to my side. I just couldn’t bring myself to do so. He was so at ease. Perhaps this was the first time he felt peace since she’s been gone. I’m not sure. When he would look up, I’d talk to him. “Miss her, don’t you Tink? Me too.” We stared at each other as if we understood one another. He missed her. I missed her. Nothing more really to understand. We got it.
Strange but somehow, I am comforted by him. Kimmie taught me how to pet him. How not to “go against his fur,” but rather brush downward towards his little tail. He liked that. Didn’t at all like my “man-handling.” I got it, Kimmie. I understand now and Tink and I are getting along just fine. Together, we sit on the couch. No TV. No radio. Just he and I — talking about and remembering you.
We miss you and wish you were here to brush his furry little coat again. His hair covers the floor in every room of the house. I know you wouldn’t care as that was your little buddy. Help me to care for him as you did Kimmie.