I had an odd sense in my dream last night, despite disturbed sleep, like a thought or feeling that the form I requested would never arrive. See, last week I went twice to this place to ask for an application form but they didn't have one either time so I left my details for them to send one on. I was losing hope of it arriving but for once an employer actually responded and I got the form in the post this morning. I spent most of the day filling it out, and drafting and redrafting answers to some more complex questions (like "what have you done to develop yourself personally in the last 12 months") while I waited for time to pass to find out the night's plan.
Sometime about 2pm Dan called and said we would probably go to the pub tonight because Josh had told him he was going. I thought, great, I'll finish the app, shower, then be on my way to meet him for 6ish. Unfortunately, he called later to say Josh wasn't going now and it seemed like nobody else who we'd really want to see would be there either. We talked for over half an hour though, about nothing in particular, but when we finally hung up I felt happy. We agreed it'd probably be better if I just go over tomorrow instead and we'd have more of a weekend of fun instead. I'm still a bit groggy ill so it was probably good I didn't go driving to Blandford when the weather was still unsettled.
Anyway, a bit more time went by and mum rang. I thought at first it was a bit random but we had a little bit of a catch up, which we haven't in a while. Unfortunately she had some bad news about my beloved cat who now lives with her. I know I sound crazy and I know it's just an animal but I chose my cat from the litter when I was 4 years old. It was a litter from a rescued cat, a bad tempered tabby, and most of the kittens were black and white with a couple of gingers and they were all running around playing. But not this one. She was tortoiseshell (see picture below) and she was sat in the back corner. She looked at me, I looked at her and she wandered over. That was it, she was the one. We took her home and I grew up with her.
Sometime about 2pm Dan called and said we would probably go to the pub tonight because Josh had told him he was going. I thought, great, I'll finish the app, shower, then be on my way to meet him for 6ish. Unfortunately, he called later to say Josh wasn't going now and it seemed like nobody else who we'd really want to see would be there either. We talked for over half an hour though, about nothing in particular, but when we finally hung up I felt happy. We agreed it'd probably be better if I just go over tomorrow instead and we'd have more of a weekend of fun instead. I'm still a bit groggy ill so it was probably good I didn't go driving to Blandford when the weather was still unsettled.
Anyway, a bit more time went by and mum rang. I thought at first it was a bit random but we had a little bit of a catch up, which we haven't in a while. Unfortunately she had some bad news about my beloved cat who now lives with her. I know I sound crazy and I know it's just an animal but I chose my cat from the litter when I was 4 years old. It was a litter from a rescued cat, a bad tempered tabby, and most of the kittens were black and white with a couple of gingers and they were all running around playing. But not this one. She was tortoiseshell (see picture below) and she was sat in the back corner. She looked at me, I looked at her and she wandered over. That was it, she was the one. We took her home and I grew up with her.
Aged about 12, this is a very old photo. Her eyes don't usually glow and the bow isn't a common feature either!I named her after a book I had, as I was still very young of course, because it was a cute story and the cat in there looked just like her. Tosca. She took to the name well and got on with the other cat at the time just fine. We played, and when she was a kitten we somehow figured this little game where she'd run away a little, turn around, then charge at me and headbutt me in the nose full speed then rub around my face like a cat "kiss" as catlovers call it. Glasgow kiss from a cat. Who'd've thought!
As she got older she kept the same habits, developing new ones too like jumping to kiss my had if I clicked my fingers above her, or jumping from floor height over the top of my cabin bed (like a bunk bed but with wardrobe etc underneath instead of a second bed) and she'd always somehow land on my stomach or bladder, pinpoint, all four paws! Sod! Still, we grew closer. Any time I was ill she'd spend the whole day asleep with me, curled up and purring or rubbing around me when I kept coughing and sneezing. She seemed to know when I felt bad too and came to me and somehow made me feel a little better.
One day, in her youth, she was hit by a car after following a neighbour's cat's trick of sitting in the middle of the road until they stopped. Only, this one didn't. We thought we were going to lose her, her insides were damaged and she couldn't move her back legs. In one last try she came home with us from the vets, and because she couldn't drink I had to constantly dip my finger in water and let her lick the drip off. Slowly but surely, she got better. I was so happy when she started walking properly again and soon enough she was as fit as ever!
Unfortunately though those injuries are back to haunt her. She's been drinking an unusual amount more water for a while and has suddenly started having even more than that. This is normally a sign of kidneys failing. She's also losing the use of her back legs. Mum noticed her wobble the other day but thought it may be because she'd just got up and was sleepy, but it doesn't seem that way now. She also peed in the dog's bed in the house because she obviously couldn't get out in time. She's a happy cat, but she wouldn't be if she stayed like this.
Tomorrow I go to say my final farewell. She has had a great 18 and a half years of life and her body just can't take it any more. I have been expecting this a while but when I got the news I was still inconsolably upset for a while. I pulled myself together though, and after an evening of playing cards with my dad and cousin Craig who's visiting this week I felt a bit better. After we'd finished annihilating Craig at endless rounds of Shithead, we all talked about a few cats we've had passed and about Tosca.
I'm going to miss her so much, and will probably get incredibly upset again tomorrow, but thankfully I have a supportive family, a lot of amazing memories, and a boyfriend who completely understands and will be there to comfort me when I get back to his after it's all over. I'm going to drive to Blandford and leave my bike at his place, then mum's picking me up at 2pm so I can spend the last few hours with Tosca before it's time. I'll go with her, like I went with my old cat Gilby when it was his time (he had internal injuries after being shot with an air rifle by my bastard neighbour, but he was very old too when that happened, already completely blind).... I remember stroking him as they gave the injection and he just shuddered a little and laid down. It feels like a betrayal but I know if we let her go on she will only suffer, she's too old and too far gone for any hope of treatment now.
She's had a good, long happy life, I just don't know how to go on with mine without her. I don't remember her not being there, life before her is before my memory began. Sadly enough I'm closer to her than some of my own family. She's the friend that could comfort me without saying a word, the companion who'd listen to me no matter what I could say, the one who always somehow understood and accepted me even when I felt all alone in the world. We grew up together, I knew we could never grow old together but still, I wish she could live forever.
~~~~~~~ Thought of the Day ~~~~~~~
It's an old oriental proverb that once taught me, "the beauty of a flower is in its nature to die", but still we cannot help but mourn the falling of the petal, the wilting of the perfect bloom.
As she got older she kept the same habits, developing new ones too like jumping to kiss my had if I clicked my fingers above her, or jumping from floor height over the top of my cabin bed (like a bunk bed but with wardrobe etc underneath instead of a second bed) and she'd always somehow land on my stomach or bladder, pinpoint, all four paws! Sod! Still, we grew closer. Any time I was ill she'd spend the whole day asleep with me, curled up and purring or rubbing around me when I kept coughing and sneezing. She seemed to know when I felt bad too and came to me and somehow made me feel a little better.
One day, in her youth, she was hit by a car after following a neighbour's cat's trick of sitting in the middle of the road until they stopped. Only, this one didn't. We thought we were going to lose her, her insides were damaged and she couldn't move her back legs. In one last try she came home with us from the vets, and because she couldn't drink I had to constantly dip my finger in water and let her lick the drip off. Slowly but surely, she got better. I was so happy when she started walking properly again and soon enough she was as fit as ever!
Unfortunately though those injuries are back to haunt her. She's been drinking an unusual amount more water for a while and has suddenly started having even more than that. This is normally a sign of kidneys failing. She's also losing the use of her back legs. Mum noticed her wobble the other day but thought it may be because she'd just got up and was sleepy, but it doesn't seem that way now. She also peed in the dog's bed in the house because she obviously couldn't get out in time. She's a happy cat, but she wouldn't be if she stayed like this.
Tomorrow I go to say my final farewell. She has had a great 18 and a half years of life and her body just can't take it any more. I have been expecting this a while but when I got the news I was still inconsolably upset for a while. I pulled myself together though, and after an evening of playing cards with my dad and cousin Craig who's visiting this week I felt a bit better. After we'd finished annihilating Craig at endless rounds of Shithead, we all talked about a few cats we've had passed and about Tosca.
I'm going to miss her so much, and will probably get incredibly upset again tomorrow, but thankfully I have a supportive family, a lot of amazing memories, and a boyfriend who completely understands and will be there to comfort me when I get back to his after it's all over. I'm going to drive to Blandford and leave my bike at his place, then mum's picking me up at 2pm so I can spend the last few hours with Tosca before it's time. I'll go with her, like I went with my old cat Gilby when it was his time (he had internal injuries after being shot with an air rifle by my bastard neighbour, but he was very old too when that happened, already completely blind).... I remember stroking him as they gave the injection and he just shuddered a little and laid down. It feels like a betrayal but I know if we let her go on she will only suffer, she's too old and too far gone for any hope of treatment now.
She's had a good, long happy life, I just don't know how to go on with mine without her. I don't remember her not being there, life before her is before my memory began. Sadly enough I'm closer to her than some of my own family. She's the friend that could comfort me without saying a word, the companion who'd listen to me no matter what I could say, the one who always somehow understood and accepted me even when I felt all alone in the world. We grew up together, I knew we could never grow old together but still, I wish she could live forever.
~~~~~~~ Thought of the Day ~~~~~~~
It's an old oriental proverb that once taught me, "the beauty of a flower is in its nature to die", but still we cannot help but mourn the falling of the petal, the wilting of the perfect bloom.
Jenivere Out.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment