Parting

It rained all weekend, except for Monday, so we didn't go fishing after all. I'll make it up to Shorty. I had to go ahead and plant the Brugmansia notwithstanding the thunder and lightening, and I did get a lot accomplished inside the house. Yesterday, I started stripping the wallpaper in the kitchen. My heart wasn't in any of it, though. Most of the weekend was spent watching my old friend, Amber, as she drifted toward the end of her life. Amber is (oh...was...that's right) a very old, long-haired ginger tabby cat that walked into my life, tail held high in the air, about 14 years ago. I don't know why she adopted us. I only know that one fine day she glided through the back door, said hello to the dog and the other cat, and set up house. Her fur was as soft as down, and, as is true with all great beauties, she took much pride in her appearance. But she was adventurous as well as vain. When Amber wasn't grooming herself, she was dozing and dreaming. There is no doubt in my mind that she lived a very Walter Mitty existence...traveling to the top of the pyramids...being entertained by Amun-Re at Karnak...flying a Sopwith Camel over London...crossing the Delaware with George Washington...but always making it home in time for dinner and a snuggle on my lap - when everything else came to a halt for the requisite under-the-chin-scratch she expected. For the last two weeks, she was on three medications to treat various problems, and she actually rallied. But, things began to fall apart on Saturday, and on Sunday she made her last trip to the vet. She didn't appear to be in any pain. Although I realize it sounds as if my trolley has fallen off its track, I believe she looked at me and told me it was okay. That she was ready. Yesterday, there were fleeting moments when I almost forgot. When a ray of sun would peek through the clouds, I'd glance up to see if she was sleeping at her favorite spot to catch the warmth. Then I'd say to myself, "Oh, that's right. She's not there." I will miss my pal very much. I am grateful she lingered with me awhile and hope she's having a wonderful adventure - perhaps sailing the seas with Marco Polo. No surprise there. She was, after all, always destined for greatness.