Dangling from the Lifeline

Okay, I'm back again, but it's been less than 48 hours since Scruffy left, and I have 9 years of stuff saved up....

I woke up this morning - without opening my eyes - to the definite sensation of a cat laying across my thigh and a furry head resting in  my cupped hand.  Just like it was supposed to be!  At first, I thought it had to be my imagination, a longing to have Puffy back where he belongs, and then, reality returned.  Short, very soft smooth fur, and a big rumbling purr - definitely not my Scruffy.  It was Busy.  Who is a mildly interesting story on his own - he's around 12.  And he has spent his entire life here, since he was 4 months old, desperately wanting to be The Cat in Charge.  For some reason, probably because he's kind of a goofy cat, he never succeeds.  When Black Kitty died, and when Pickle died, poor Busy tried, it just didn't work.  Scruffy, on the other hand, was absolutely oblivious to the pecking order.  He wasn't interested in positioning himself for power.  He wanted to sit on my lap regularly, he wanted copious amounts of food on a nibbling schedule, and that was about it.  He knew who he was, lol; he didn't need to boss anyone else around.  He was willing to let Milkshake drape himself all over him, he didn't mind sharing a food dish, but otherwise, he was firmly fixated on maintaining his dignity.  And me.

Morning wake-up scritches

The snow has melted.  When the dirt over Scruffy's grave dries out a little, Rege is going to smooth it out and put the "turf" back in place.  I bought this kit at Michael's last year to make plaster steppingstones/markers. I got all sorts of accessories, too - bottles of dye to make them different colors, molds in varying shapes, an odd little plastic holder that is supposed to let you apply letters to the marker.  When I get the unused caskets off the kitchen table, I guess maybe I'll try my hand at marker-making.  Or not. I'm having a hard time concentrating.  And I haven't seen my mother in two weeks. Maybe marker-making will have to wait....

Scruffy's empty grave, before the snow

Knowing that Scruffy's time was limited - but not HOW limited, sadly - I have been taking tons of pictures.  Mostly they're the not wonderful, blurry type that are my unfortunate speciality.  I have very few close-ups that show how pretty his markings were.  And now I'm thinking, geez, I loved his big furry feet - and I don't have a single picture of them.  I did think about getting one of those footprint kits that other people's vets always seem to make as a memento.  Because he was spending a lot of time on the cat trees at the end, which put him right in front of my chair, I do have a bunch of pictures of the Ploofy Tail.  I loved his Ploofy Tail. It was so thick underneath the not-particularly-attractive long fur.  Not that he let me touch it very often.  Anyway, he had a kind of smooth bouncing way of walking, and the Ploofy Tail would wave in the breeze behind him.

The Ploofy Tail

Maybe I'm done here, after all.  I want to finish the medical stuff from the Specialty Hospital.  And maybe that will be enough.

I love and miss you, Puffy.  Come back and see me sometime soon, all right?  Just to let me know you're okay.

  

What I'd give to know what he's thinking about here.

Scruffy developed a taste for tea towards the end.  I wish I'd known years ago how much he liked lactose free milk, too.  :(

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