| last week... |
[Jun. 24th, 2008|03:14 pm] |
So, did the funeral thing, I sang the song, and such. Of the two songs I said she always wanted me to sing for her, I showed up to find I was on the program to sing 1 (Amazing Grace, which I also sang for Papa's funeral), and everyone sang the other. So maybe Glen wasn't ignoring me as much as it seemed ;)
I'm bummed. Yeah, I know, funerals are that way...but no, I was expecting hers. I knew she was dying, had said goodbye to her long before, so while it was sad it didn't make me sad. What put me over the edge and into that state was the fact that when we got back, Thoreau was gone.
Thoreau was my cat, my bud. He was the coolest cat in the universe. Unfortunately, there was a period of time where I couldn't have him with me for a couple months, and so I left him at my mom's. Well, the couple months ended (I was doing some strange thing I don't even really remember now during a summer or something...?) my mother wouldn't let me have my cat back! She had gotten too attached, and got sad when I would bring the issue up. So, I let her keep him.
Anyway, he was a sometimes-outside cat, generally in but going out a couple times a day. My fault really; I taught him that behavior. He didn't know how to use a litter box, he just would meow, get let out, do his thing, play, chase a dog, get chased by a dog, then meow to get back in. He was never gone for more than a few hours.
So we get back in town Thursday evening (funeral was in Robstown, 200 miles away from Round Rock, where my parents live), and do the whole unloading/settling/etc thing. We sit down to eat, do whatever, and start looking for Thoreau. He's not around. Friday - I sit around looking out the window (was sortof stranded there due to a miscommunication anyway) looking for him. Oh, I know, cats roam - right? I call the pound, and they tell me that at 12, he's probably just gone off somewhere to be alone and die. I tell the lady that my wife is a vet, and we can be pretty confident in his health. She then tells me about her cat that crawled under something in her bathroom to die, and that she's sure that's what happened. I think that lady might be crazy. Anyway, I needed to leave a description with her, so I had to put up with it.
Saturday, we put out fliers. I think about 30?
Sunday, I came back home to San Diego.
Monday, we find out that several cats on my parent's street went missing all in a 24hour period...and there's rumors of someone taking cats to do things to them. And somehow, within a day all the fliers were gone...even though we got permission from various people to put them up. The ones on the running trail were gone within an hour, even.
I try not to be an angry person. My only other option right now, however, is sadness. And then, of course, a bit of guilt for being more sad about Thoreau than I am about Memaw. |
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