Saturday, October 30, 2010
New Orleans is less joyful tonight
Last night, she didn't come home or come when I called. I woke up three times during the night and opened front and back doors. She had started sitting in the treehouse I bought a couple of years ago to watch me through the back window, but there was no sign of her. At 5 a.m., I got up and walked up and down the block, looking and calling.
After going to the 8:30 workout at health club, I walked the neighborhood again and checked the back shed to see if she could have gotten locked inside. I found her lying on the floor, lifeless. She'd been sneezing the last couple of days, but I hadn't thought much of it - she didn't seem sick. The Internet said sneezes indicate a minor respiratory infection that should take care of itself.
But I am guessing it was Inoculant, the pesticide my landlord mixed with his Sweet Pea seeds on Wednesday. Once the ground was loosened, she'd started digging in his garden. I wasn't thinking how dangerous that could be for a little, 10# cat. I was thinking more about how she was messing up his seed. And I actually ordered the Sweet Peas and inoculant myself online, so I feel like an accomplice.
I am inconsolable. I know the answer is to get another cat as soon as possible. The world is full of kitties nobody wants. But this one was so special. Samie was the only cat who actually kissed me on the lips and lightly bit my nose to say she loved me. She could actually stand on her hind legs to beg for a treat like a dog. When I'd call her name, she'd come running full tilt down the street. She was affectionate and also independent - a lover not a fighter.
And who knows what her real name was? She appeared at my back door three years ago and insisted upon moving in. She claimed me as her own. My best friend, Samie, was never a bother and without a single bad habit. I feel so guilty I let her outdoors even though she loved to roam.
I hope she's roaming kitty heaven now and forgives me for my negligence. I am sorry for her, but even sorrier for myself.