It’s been a long month. Some days have been harder than others. Some days I missed her more than other days. I still expect to see her when I come home. I have to keep myself from saying, “I’m home! Pretend like you care!” (If we were gone more than an hour, she would meet us at the door like a dog, hoping for a treat.) I miss how she would immediately appear whenever I used the can opener because clearly whatever was being opened was meant for her.
I miss her waking me up in the mornings meowing because she wanted on the bed. She couldn’t jump easily in the last year or so, so she just made a lot of noise until I woke up enough to pull her on to the bed with us. (DH sleeps like the dead and never heard a thing.) I miss her patting me on the head to wake me up because I had been petting her in my sleep and had stopped without her permission. (Yes, I think I did this pretty regularly. I was well trained.)
I miss her watching me while I did my morning workouts the whole time she was wondering why I was acting like such an idiot. I miss how she’d walk right in front of me when I was doing some complicated kickboxing thing because I clearly needed a distraction.
I miss how she’d see on the couch patiently waiting for me to arrange the blanket in my lap just right before she’d climb in and promptly go to sleep. I miss her disgruntled look when I put her down hours later because I had to do something.
I miss her fur everywhere because no matter how much I combed her she still shed everywhere. I miss watching her eyes light up when she saw us with one of her combs or brushes and how fast she’d move, even when she was really stiff and sore.
I miss how she’d stick her head in our sneakers and the faces she’d make. I miss seeing her curled up on my sandal after I spent 20 minutes looking for it. (This happened pretty often during the summers.)
I miss her kibble everywhere because she was such a messy eater. Even with the tray we bought for her food dishes couldn’t keep her food in check.
I just miss her.
Animal lovers and pet people will completely understand and everyone else will think I’m crazy to be so sad. One of our closest friends said how sorry he was with one breath and then said to “wait a week or two” before getting another one. We just had to laugh because it just proved how badly he doesn’t get an attachment to animals. (I really hope he’s smart enough not to say that to his girlfriend if/when her dog dies.)
DH adopted Dixie in 2003 before we were even engaged. He’d been talking about getting a cat for ages when he finally cracked and started seriously looking for one. All he kept saying was that he wanted a lap cat, not a kitten because he wouldn’t be home enough. He found Dixie, about 3 or 4 years old, on his second or third visit to his local SPCA. She wasn’t my first choice because she was so loud, but, since she was going to be his cat, I didn’t say anything for or against her.
When they had their little meet and greet, the SPCA volunteer put her on the carpet and Dixie took off for the scratching post in the far corner where she took out her frustrations for a good minute. DH turned very pale because he had just bought an expensive theater system that included two tall speakers that could be mistaken for giant kitty scratching posts. I could see that he was beginning to change his mind but then she stopped scratching and walked over to where he was sitting. She sat there studying him for about 30 seconds before jumping in his lap and immediately curling up. I had never heard anything purr so loud in my life. That was it. She had him wrapped around her furry paws.
A few days later (after the shelter verified he could have pets in his apartment), he took her home.