September. This month is both a happy time for me, as well as a tragic one. The happy comes from the birth of my daughter in September. The tragedy comes from the death of my father in September 4 years ago. This September brought with it the passing of my 18 yr old buddy, Minion, sometimes referred to on Twitter and Facebook as Dowager Cat. 18 years. That’s a long time for a pet. She’d been with me all those years, giving me joy, and sometimes frustration (like when she refused to use the liter box).
Writer Cat. It seems most of the writers I know have cats. I don’t know why this is. Maybe it’s because cats are in their own way, self-sufficient. I’ve also heard some non-cat owners say that cats aren’t sweet and loving like dogs. That, my dears, is far from the truth. If there was one thing Minion loved, it was to be in my lap, her face buried under my arm, with my hand on her back. I spent many late nights writing with her in my lap or in the chair with me, or even in the chair behind me or beside me. And on the desk. When she was small and we all owned those huge monitors with the flat tops, that’s where she would perch for hours on end, warmed the by heat of the monitor, bent over the front, chasing the mouse cursor.
Chi-Chi, Minion’s Legacy. A year ago I pulled three little 2 week old kittens from under my back deck in the middle of a rainstorm. They were drowning and mewing and there was no way I was going to leave them there. Covered in schmutz, they piled together in a little box. Months later I worried what I was going to do with FOUR cats as the liter and food bills started to escalate. But then I’d come up the steps from my office and find all four of them piled together on the couch and Minion would get up, stretch, and meet me on the armrest to get her scratches. Soon, Chi would get up with Minion and do what Minion did and it didn’t seem to matter.
This weekend she followed me around and insisted she be in my lap where she could put her paw on my chest and lick my face. This morning she stepped outside with me and went right to Minion’s grave and made brrrrting noises. She’s your legacy, Minion. And she’s just about as loud. :)
Go with grace, La Petite Minion, and know that you were and will always be loved. Thank you for letting me be yours all those years.
Writing/editing/fiction will resume this week.