So it's been a couple of weeks

And as we suspected, the feelings have changed. Of course, we miss Roo. I think we always will. But the overwhelming urge to breakdown and sob has finally subsided. I think the re-arrangement of the whole apartment helped, as I was seeing her ghost everywhere: at the food bowl, on my pillow, etc etc etc. Now we can look at the pictures of her all over the fridge and smile while we get a little teary.

Kiki seems to be adjusting to her life as the only cat. We have discussed getting another, but it's hard to know what is the best thing. Kiki is fifteen. She has been with other non-sister cats before, but I can't say she ever really liked them. I mean, maybe the cat roommates in college cause they were all young at the time. It's hard to say. Of course, we humans would love another furry baby, but we are fully aware that Kiki got the short end of the stick since Roo was so sick, and if we brought home another cat now, she would have to share the attention again... BUT she would have a catpanion to spend her time with.

I WISH SHE COULD JUST TELL US IF SHE WANTED A KITTY. Maybe she would like a kitten to terrorize.

Do you have any experience with introducing a young cat to an old cat?

This.

Cats are so awesome.

Sometimes you need a change of pace.

Friday was a rough day. I picked up Roo's ashes. They came in a nice wooden box with a note from the crematorium. Morbid and thoughtful at the same time. The box comes with a little lock and two keys. We haven't opened it yet, and I doubt we will. I am just glad I didn't have to buy an urn.

After that sad event, I had to drop my sister's car off at the airport. I really enjoyed zipping around in it, it's faster and smoother than the old red volvo. Rode the rail home, spent the afternoon drinking beer alone and cutting my hair off in the bathroom with dull scissors:



It worked out okay, I am pretty happy with it, but the whole experience reminded me an awful lot of art school in the nineties (only I shaved my head that time.)

The next morning marked a week since we put her down. I woke up early, watched some terrible tv on netflix with Kiki. We snuggled hard and let Trever sleep in. The plan was to re-arrange the whole apartment. We had a late start; after banana chocolate chip pancakes and coffee, we ran a couple errands, and stopped at home to drop off my ice cream before heading to home depot for bird seed. He was driving, started to take the left out of our street but then changed his mind and took the right. GOOD THING! The lady at the end of our street was cleaning out her garage. We mistook it for a yard sale, she corrected us, but then said, "That dresser is free, though, if you want it!"

I swear, Roo was looking down at us. She knew that a new piece of furniture was just the incentive we needed to clean and re-arrange and reset our home. And lordy, the dresser is beautiful. Here is just a taste:



There is a still a lot to do at home, but the change feels pretty good so far.

I am changed by the past week.

I feel a hollow spot. I don't want to smile. I don't want to listen to hip hop. I feel acutely aware of things in my life that make me unhappy. My eyes look different.

I got a call today that Roo's ashes are ready to be picked up.

I saw a bird with it's wing mangled and stuck in the middle of the road. All the cars in that lane kept swerving to avoid it, when really it need to be put out of it's misery. I almost turned around to do it. Instead I got home and sat in my sister's car in my driveway and cried.

Am I supposed to get an urn? Should I sprinkle her ashes somewhere? No place seems appropriate. I could put her ashes into ink and get a tattoo of her face. So far that makes the most sense. Anyone want to buy me a tattoo?

The only things that I get any sense of relief from: listening to the 69 Love Songs, watching 90210 (yes, the new terrible one) and thrifting. Since I've had a terrible cold, there's been less bourbon drinking, which is probably okay, but man, it sucks to sit here with my feelings and really FEEL them. Bourbon is good numbing agent.

Kiki and I have been exchanging meaningful glances. We both know this is going to be an adjustment.

Kiki.

She seems listless. I think she is enjoying having our full attention, but there is this sadness on her face. The cats didn't sleep together, they barely ever sat next to each other (usually I forced them). I mean, they did when they were little, but it's hard for me to remember a time when they were cuddly with each other except for in the first few months I had them. Mostly, they fought. HARD. Like cartoon style cat fights, rolling balls of fluffy limbs, hissing and growling, fur flying. Usually they both had scabs after. And I think that's how they liked it. I know it's been hard on Kiki, watching her sister get sick, and having no one to really get rowdy with. Sometimes I think she would like a young cat to beat up. But at the same time, fifteen seems like a good age to be an only cat. I don't know. I just worry that when I go back to work tomorrow she will lay in the closet all day, feeling lonely. And I don't want that. Maybe I should get her some fish to stare at.

We haven't washed Roo's scarf, or the blanket she decided was hers. We put them on the two chairs that Kiki frequents the most, and she has been sleeping with them. I hope it gives her comfort. As for us, we have determined that in order to move on and not keep thinking we will see Roo sitting there, we need to re-arrange the everything. Every thing. Which will be tricky because our apartment is only so big. Also, we probably should not renew our lease. (we were thinking of not renewing anyways, so this is even more of an incentive, I guess. Or the opposite? What if she haunts this place? Maybe I want to remember? I DON'T KNOW. All I know is I need to chop my hair all off.)

I am basically all fucked up over this.

I took this polaroid on Friday. The sister cats, enjoying the sunny porch together. I am so heartbroken. I know the pain will start to fade, but I will never stop missing my Roo. Poor Kiki, alone after fifteen years of being with her sister every day. The whole thing is so sad.

RIP my sweet girl, we will always love you.

I don't know what to say.

I am feeling a sadness like I have never known. I am sitting at the desk typing this, Kiki is on the chair behind me and Roo is in the open window, watching the world.




Tomorrow morning we will bring Roo the vet, and there is a large possibility that we will not be bringing her home with us. I feel so much pain. These cats are my heart. This is a real pain that I am feeling. And if anyone tries to cut it down, I will punch them in the fucking face.

I knew it would happen. That's what happens, to animals. You get to watch them live their whole life while you live just a part of yours. You create their world. And you can control their end. It's beautiful and painful and totally fucking worth it. I wouldn't trade my time with my cats for anything in the world.

That being said, I feel really fucking terrible right now.