i'm sad - this is why...

i didn't write yesterday.

but that's not why i'm sad.

when i woke up this morning, i found Cheyenne (Mouse Mouse), my 19 year old cat, hadn't left my side. not only had she not left my side, she kept trying to snuggle closer and closer. she hadn't slept with me for weeks, and likely months.

she's been sleeping on the couch and until yesterday, i just thought she preferred to sleep there because she was getting older, more fragile and sleeping next to me seemed more dangerous to her. but i'm starting to think that she was just keeping watch.

she also started this yowling around the same time she'd stopped sleeping next to me. terrible mournful screeching at all hours of the night. sometimes she'd do it during the day, but mostly, she'd do it between midnight and 4am. it was awful. i did research and it seemed to be related to her health and her age. but now. . . now, i think she was just trying to tell me something.

and yesterday, she stunned me.

yesterday we took her brother, Willie, of 13 years to put him to sleep. i brought her with me because i had read that maybe her yowling had to do with mourning. and sometimes, if you have an animal present when the other one passes, it helps them with the understanding about why they are going home alone.

i got Willie 13 years ago from a Montana no-kill shelter where he'd be for a year. i had been volunteering, helping to walk and train the dogs. every time i spent time training and walking dogs, before i'd leave, i'd go to the cat room and hang out with the cats for a half an hour. Willie would creep up every week and stretch his long body across my lap. he was timid and nervous, but never failed to make it to my lap. his left eye was like a blue marble and the reason he'd been there for the entire year of his life. the shelter told me that most people want a kitten or a perfect cat. one eye that didn't work was definitely a blocker to him getting adopted.

Willie and a beer - he never judged my Miller Lite choices

i convinced Alistair we needed a third cat. .  .we did not need a third cat. and Alistair didn't really want a third cat. we already had CJ, a pretty crotchety old man cat (he came with the Alistair package) and Cheyenne (mouse mouse is what i call her now since she squeaked), so another cat was not something high on the list of "needs" especially since Alistair was already in love with these two cats.

Willie was hard not to fall in love with, though. since his blue eye didn't work, he had depth perception issues and couldn't always see us coming and he'd drop his head any time we'd go to pet him. but he snuggled like no other cat. he loved being loved. and he'd roll over and expose his belly after only a few minutes.

Willie's totem when we visited Astoria and the Goonies hour

Willie wasn't his name when we got him from the shelter. it was Adobe. it was a dumb name and we decided on naming him after the Goonie Pirate - Willie - the one-eyed pirate from The Goonies; a favorite classic movie of ours. we'd call him Captain Willard and Willie-man.

about a year after we got him, we had moved to Seattle, he was running around in the house, likely due to vacuum terror, and he ran into something and, like most times he'd get spooked, ran under the bed. about three hours later, he hadn't come out - which was actually unusual. when we found him. . . his eye had burst. . . i know, it's gross, but apparently it had been swelling and that is why he didn't like us to pet his head. . . it hurt. we quickly took him in and had his eye removed and he became so much happier. . . and loved getting his head pet after that. in fact, he would shove his face into your hand any chance he could get.

eating pizza

if you didn't offer the doritos, there was a lot of swiping

he became a very healthy, happy addition to our family for the next many years. at his peak he was 20lbs. and i'd call him Fatty McFat Fat. . . he would eat Doritos, Dick's burgers and pizza. not that we gave him any of that. . . he'd steal it. there was this one time i had two slices of pizza on the table and i left the room for a minute. when i got back, my pizza was gone. i asked the other HUMAN in the house if he'd eaten my pizza as this was a pretty educated guess as to what was likely. after a short investigation, i discovered Willie under the table with a very large piece of pizza.



his favorite, though, was water bug; translation dungeness crab and shrimp. Alistair would get a whole crab at Pike's Place Market and he'd prepare the crab for me to cook but the entire t
ime he was prepping the crab, Willie would talk to Alistair in the kitchen. "feed me. feed me. feed me. feed me." Alistair liked to spoil Willie and that meant morning shrimp. lovingly purchased at Costco, thawed every day and cut up to bite size pieces for Willie. it took me a long time to get Willie to stop begging once i finally convinced humans in the house this was a bad idea. Willie eventually learned that my alternative of kidney friendly food was a better choice.

seriously - 20lbs. . . look at that crab scavenger

when we lost Alistair, he slept with me every night, curled up next to my neck. purring to try to make
us both feel better.


Mouse Mouse never seemed to like Willie. her domain was the bed and when Willie would try to get up in her space, she'd hiss. but the feeling seemed mutual. in the middle of the night Willie would trap her in the litter box room. there appeared to be no love lost between the two of them.



but a few months ago, Mouse started sleeping in the same proximity as Willie. hissing stopped. i didn't actually think anything of it at the time. Willie got sick. . . and i knew he'd be leaving us soon. just how soon wasn't clear. but soon.

then one night i caught Mouse snuggling up near Willie. it surprised me so much i took a picture.

and then the yowling when Willie was in the hospital for a week. she stopped when he returned.

she started again about a week ago. i think she was telling us it was time for Willie. he was sick and sad and we weren't doing enough. we'd been giving him IV fluid every morning and giving him any food he'd eat. on his last day, i woke to find him hiding in the bathroom, a place he'd been going to for a day or so. i gave him a little tuna, which he got up off my scarf and ate a little. i promised him it wouldn't hurt anymore.

so, i brought her with us. it was me, Mouse, Ciara and Cassidy. i was worried she'd be a big distraction but wanted her to know what was going to happen. so, she'd be prepared to be alone at home.

she was amazing.

she laid down next to him; curled up  and when they gave him the sedative, she got up, turned around and laid across him, like protecting him. everyone in the room was stunned. i moved her fearing she was causing him some pain by being on top of him, but she didn't move away, she snuggled in closer. a few minutes later, the doctor came in to help Willie pass. Mouse put her paws on this back legs, by his tail. i cried. hard. she knew. she knew exactly why she was there. the doctor asked me, "are you ready." through my tears, i said, "he's ready. it doesn't matter if i am or not."

animals are amazing. she knew it was time and she new to comfort him. and frankly, me.

on the way home, she didn't make a peep. and that night. she slept with me for the first time in months. no yowling.

so, while i broke my habit of writing. . . that's not why i'm sad. my family changed again. and it will again. and it will be ok. but today. . .today, i'm sad.

good-bye Captain Willie

30 for 30 has gotten me totally inspired

today is day 11 of 30 days of writing.  it's been so helpful in getting me unstuck. i've been stuck for months and months and months. and for some reason, at the end of September, i was ripe for change. Dustin asked me to go to this "open mic" night at the Hugo House to see him read some of his work. i hadn't seen him in months and i always leave our writing groups with so much excitement and inspiration, i thought it would be good to see him (miss him so much!!) and see what he'd been working on. i needed out of this funk.

it was the exact right time.

i found this note on the table we were sitting at and it hosted a graphic that spoke to me.

i thought it would be a good idea for Dustin to do since he was so good at being regular with his writing (he's totally my hero on this. . .). but a few days later, he emailed me, telling me he had taken a look and maybe we could do it together. i don't even know what possessed me to say yes since the previous three or four months i'd been completely terrified to open up my computer or my notebook.  the thought of writing anything made me want go into a fugue state. so, when i said yes, i think it surprised me more than Dustin.

and so far. . . it hasn't be horrible. the complete opposite (for those of you following this horrible pattern are likely screaming at your screens, "seriously kp. you fucking say this every few months. .. " continue. . . ). it's been great. i've written about Laffy Taffy (a caper at work), what it's like to have to arrange a funeral, the rivers etched into your skin when you take a shower, college reminiscents, parts of a novel i've been desperately trying to rid my mind of, part of a novel in my brain i want to let ruminate in that same brain, and the weird parallels between the global warming conspiracy and when a democrat is in office while the economy appears to be booming. . . all weird, but all good. the two things i wrote related to my novel. . . it's amazing. i'm so excited to finally be actually writing about it. 

i even went to the open mic night on 10/5 to read something from one of the novels. it was liberating! i even auditioned a story for a storytelling night. .. and i cannot wait to edit it if they choose it. and even if they don't, i'll now have a place to send more pitches. 

so. . .not so bad for 11 days. 

oh - and this whole thing is to raise money for the Hugo House.  I don't know if any of you have heard of it, but it's amazing. when i went to my first open mic in September, to listen, it reminded me so much of the play from San Miguel that parroted what it must have been like back when Kerouac and Burroughs had done readings in front of their friends fueled by the alcohol and camaraderie.  it felt like home. i think i looked over at Dustin at some point in the evening and said, "why haven't we done this before??" it was a question asked that seemed so . . . late - i mean, it felt so right to be there with these other people. 

i became a member about a day and a half later, as soon as i had a second to go to their website. and i never want this place to go away. so, if you feel so inclined to help support a community that supports me as a writer, i would be extra grateful (as i am already grateful you are here reading this). many thank yous. i'm hoping that out of this 30 days i'll get something i can submit for publishing. . . or at least something that's fit to post here as a fiction. but nothing has totally taken shape yet. but keep me doing it. which means i'm about to do a weird ask. . . and give. . . 

if you decide you can donate some cash - $20 or more, i'll totally write you a micro fiction of any topic you want. and send it to you. . . really. it may be horrible, but you'll get me writing. holy crap - i'm terrified. . . ready?

set?

go!!!!!