I need to update my profile page, but I can't bear to erase "one superior feline."
I miss her. A lot. When I went down in the basement to do laundry today, there was the little nest she had in the blankets beside the washer. I kept expecting to see her. In the morning, I wait for her to come out mewing for her breakfast.
In a few days, I'll get another little earthenware pot with her ashes in it. I'm getting quite a collection of them. Mandy's is on a shelf in the kitchen and looks as if it might be sugar, or flour. Cholmondeley's is in my bedroom. I have to decide what to do with the ashes. My feeling is that Clio was probably more attached to the place than to me, and would probably like to be under a rose bush where it'll be sunny and safe. But I can't be sure. She liked being near me. The best time was before my mum died, and I used to work in the room that is now my bedroom. She was able to jump up to a shelf over my desk, and used to love lying there while I worked. She would be all relaxed, pretending to sleep, but always with one eye a little bit open so that she knew where I was and what I was doing. I wish that she and Robinson had gotten along better. Sometimes, she'd come out when he was there and rub her head under his chin and he would lick her face and everyone would be happy, but I don't think they could ever really be good friends.
And I'm not really sure about Robinson, either. Sometimes he seems happy, and at other times he seems to want to be anywhere but near me. I think of Cholmondeley, who could never bear to be more than about 5 feet from me. I would feel his eyes on me where ever I was. I think sometimes that Robinson would be perfectly happy alone on a hillside, the wind blowing through his fur, gazing off into the distance. He doesn't really want to be a house dog, I think. Yet I think he'd like me to be around somewhere, just not too close.
But then. He's just come into the study and settled down at my feet.
I miss her. A lot. When I went down in the basement to do laundry today, there was the little nest she had in the blankets beside the washer. I kept expecting to see her. In the morning, I wait for her to come out mewing for her breakfast.
In a few days, I'll get another little earthenware pot with her ashes in it. I'm getting quite a collection of them. Mandy's is on a shelf in the kitchen and looks as if it might be sugar, or flour. Cholmondeley's is in my bedroom. I have to decide what to do with the ashes. My feeling is that Clio was probably more attached to the place than to me, and would probably like to be under a rose bush where it'll be sunny and safe. But I can't be sure. She liked being near me. The best time was before my mum died, and I used to work in the room that is now my bedroom. She was able to jump up to a shelf over my desk, and used to love lying there while I worked. She would be all relaxed, pretending to sleep, but always with one eye a little bit open so that she knew where I was and what I was doing. I wish that she and Robinson had gotten along better. Sometimes, she'd come out when he was there and rub her head under his chin and he would lick her face and everyone would be happy, but I don't think they could ever really be good friends.
And I'm not really sure about Robinson, either. Sometimes he seems happy, and at other times he seems to want to be anywhere but near me. I think of Cholmondeley, who could never bear to be more than about 5 feet from me. I would feel his eyes on me where ever I was. I think sometimes that Robinson would be perfectly happy alone on a hillside, the wind blowing through his fur, gazing off into the distance. He doesn't really want to be a house dog, I think. Yet I think he'd like me to be around somewhere, just not too close.
But then. He's just come into the study and settled down at my feet.
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I'm very sorry that another of your companions has died. ((hugs))
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We have two dogs. One of them is cuddly ALL of the time...MUST be right next to us no matter what. The other one seems to loathe affection. We have to "catch" her and force her to sit on our laps if we want some closeness with her. She will tolerate it for a bit, but then she struggles free and shakes it off. But she also follows our every step, so I guess it's just her way. My point is that I guess some dogs are just more independent, and I'm sure Robinson is the same.
Your description of the laundry room without Clio was so sad. I know your heart feels truly empty right now. It would be a good time for Robinson to give you some cuddle-time....dagnabbit!
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I know that it's difficult to determine what to do with the ashes - it's always so upsetting to get the little urn. We ended up giving our former dogs, Doogie & Andy, trees; and our old cat, Farley, a small bush. All three of them are in my parents' back yard. Farley was put down under the exact circumstances Cilo was, which was awful. It's so sudden, it's like the intense grief sets in later.
Anyways, as always, I am sending big big BIG huge hugs your way. :) *loves*
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Whatever you do, try and find something particular to each one - something that will raise a smile when you think of it.
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At least they're nice urns. They're all from the same place, and they match. And actually kind of go with the colours I like to have around me, so that's good. Mandy's is a pretty small jar. I think Clio's will be even smaller...
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Regarding her being more attached to the place than to you, well, I think some of us underestimate cat's attachments to people. Maybe they're not as likely to follow people, but one can be attached and not needy. That's why those cat and dog cliches have never seemed convincing to me. I think it's more that a cat inhabits your space the way another person would. They think their homes are theirs as much as they are ours, and they know parts of the home that we hardly notice, so you're right that where she is important. But I guarantee that she loved you, specifically you, as you did her.
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