I Stood By Your Bed Last Night
I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I purred to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached down to me.
I walked with you toward the door as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you; I smiled and said, “it’s me.”
You looked so very tired as you sank into a chair,
I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.
It’s possible for me to be so near you each and every day,
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew…
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
Now the day is over and I smile and watch you yawning,
I say “goodnight, God bless, I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand there, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there’s so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out… then come home to be with me.
Losing a beloved pet is by no means an easy thing to deal with. Even with Cindy being gone for less than a week, I’m still peeping around the corner hoping to see her standing there and meowing. When I feed Ozzie I expect to hear her little bell come jingling up to the plate and Ozzie glaring at her as she starts to eat. Instead, he dines alone and for all intents and purposes, he looks awfully sad.
There have been telltale signs of Cindy’s presence around here, though.
Ann woke up in tears on the night Cindy was euthanized and told me she had heard her bell jingle. Having lost many pets in the past (and having the same thing happen to me), I had told her she might hear such a thing. A few days later when Anthony and I were playing Hot Wheels in the den, I swore I heard Cindy’s little meow come from behind me. I know for a fact it wasn’t Ozzie because they both have distinctive meows, Ozzie’s being more masculine.
As I tried to process what the hell was going on, I felt a presence by my left leg as if Ozzie was walking by me. I turned back to look and saw nothing, and Ozzie was sleeping soundly in his box.
Yes, go ahead and call me crazy. I don’t care. Whether this was actually Cindy’s spirit or just figments of our collective imagination is anybody’s guess but the one common denominator is that they brought a sense of peace to us all–and a few tears as well. It’s apparent to us that Cindy’s still roaming around the place, almost as if she’s telling us that everything will be fine.
On that end, Anthony and I went to PetsMart the other day to look at cats that were up for adoption. And that’s when the healing process began.
There were all kinds of kitties: young, old, calm, temperamental, calico, fuzzy, plain. No matter which we chose to pet or play with, they all brought with them a sense of tranquility that eased the pain of our loss. Damn them.
So yesterday, we all made a trip to the local SPCA shelter and looked at the cats they had ready for adoption. While my first inclination was to say, “Fuck it, I’ll take them all,” we all know that’s just not how it works. Besides, I’d look like a certain character from The Simpsons if really did end up taking them all home.
And good God, were there plenty to choose from. We wandered around the place and stuck our fingers in different cages trying to get a feel of each one’s personality and for the most part, while cute as hell, many of these little guys just weren’t “the one” for us. But two did stand out.
Andy, a little grey kitten that closely resembled Cindy, was about the calmest of the bunch and that was fine with us. Then there was Monte who had a funny little meow and seemed to warm up to us the second we approached the cage.
We then asked the volunteer if we could spend a little time with Andy in the room to see how he interacted with all of us. While cute and slightly fuzzy, I’m sad to say that we had to pass on him. Again, you know what works for you and Andy just didn’t have “it.” Sorry, little dude.
Then it was Monte’s turn to spend time with us. Sure, he was cute as all kittens are. Yes, he played like all of them do. But when he stood on his hind legs to rub his head against my right hand, I just about started to cry. Cindy used to do that and in fact, there were lot of things that Monte did that reminded us all of Cindy.
Within an hour, I was filling out the paperwork and writing a check. And for the first time, I’m proud to introduce you to Anthony and his new kitten, Monte:
We pick up Monte in about an hour and man, Anthony hasn’t been this excited since…ever. This is Christmas, The Tooth Fairy, Easter, Christmas II, a trip to Disneyland, and everything in between all rolled into one fuzzy little package. (Monte is currently at the local vet’s office recovering from his little operation*.)
So there you have it. While we may be getting a new pet, it’s pretty obvious that Cindy has never left us 🙂
Stay tuned for more pictures, stories, aggravation, scratched hands, clawed furniture…hey, just what the heck did I sign up for here?
(Note: while writing this entry, I heard a soft thud on the couch and the soft jingle of Cindy’s bell, right about where her collar is resting on the mantel. No joke.)
(* WTF is going on at :41 of that video?)
UPDATE: Here’s Monte!