It takes me longer to process things these days. I’m quite happy with maps and data – but processing the deeper things that tend to creep into life and set things in a slightly different direction. The short story is Stu has moved into the great beyond.
Which I know – it’s a cat. The world has a ton of cats…..but……
Stu made an appearance in what I would call “my dark period”. I’ve got a good 5 year record of being horrifically grouchy from 2009 to 2014 due in part to a divorce and my absolute refusal to deal with things that were bothering me. I am male and we fix things by grunting and/or standing in the woods. Neither of which helps matters on a large scale or small scale.
My neighbor appeared at my doorstep with a flea covered kitten who should probably have been dead. He was bathed and the story was “I’ll come back for him”. She never did. I called and yelled “I don’t need a stupid cat”. Which ended up being his name: Stupid. I took great delight in vet notices coming to the house addressed to the cat that said ‘Dear Stupid it’s time to come back to the vet”.
If I was late in feeding him he had a habit of completely destroying a loaf of bread. Why bread? Why lay on the ground clutching the loaf while biting it and kicking it? Why not my pillow? Why not anything? A loaf of bread isn’t much but to go and buy 4 loaves in 4 days was a bit annoying.
Pets die. It’s a fact of life that we have them for a short period be it 10 years or sometimes 20. Sometimes a lot less. Post divorce I found myself sitting at home a lot staring at my cableless television and the cats would line up one by one and sit with me. I may have entertained some conversation with them. It was much more pleasant talking to them than to people. When I made a move to Athens Georgia I found that I spent a lot of time sitting staring at my cableless television and they would all line up for more conversation. Flash forward and I’m back in Chattanooga and Stitch passed. That hurt. Then Miso who was older than everyone went. That hurt more. I enjoyed a three year vacation from death until this year.
Last year Stu got sick. I waited too long to take him to the vet. The diagnosis was one of two things. One thing can be beat. One thing cannot. One round of meds and he was almost new. Life got settled back in and off we went. Then he got sick again. I spend a lot of time these days saying “cancer” due to some family issues. Finally a few weeks ago they confirmed yes it was and he had a month. He made it 6 days. My assumption was and is that he was waiting for me to get home since I was traveling. Stu had horrible separation anxiety. If I left the house he would get agitated. It was to the point I joked about taking him with me just to keep him happy.
Anyway – cremated. He sits on my shelf with all the others. These days I sit and get phone calls and social media reports from friends. So and So almost had a heart attack. Hey <fill in the blank> died. It’s annoying. It’s life. When you get older that just becomes a thing you have to deal with. I’m going to take a break for a bit from pets. I have one last cat and she remains well fed and comfortable until she’s gone. Then I stop for a bit. Maybe a dog. Maybe nothing.
Stu you were an absolute pain from day one. I miss your noise and weirdness.