Scout was her name. I called her my gypsy cat. Wherever I went, she went. And I was always on the move. I liked nothing better than to throw a backpack of clothes in the back of my little yellow truck and hit the road. Sometimes I'd be gone for a few days. Sometimes for a season. I just let the wind carry me and the weather determined how long. And Scout was beside me on every journey. That seven toed Russian blue was my sidekick, my pal for a very, very long time. When I finally settled down, she settled down, too.
Five years ago I had to say goodbye to her. She took her last breath, in front of the woodstove, her favorite place, one winter evening. I didn't go to work for days. I cried all the time.
I miss that animal. I still think about her a lot. C and I are always reminding each other of the neat things she used to do and the pure joy she brought into our lives. You never get over it. And why should you want to?
I've got Skye now. Ironically, she is so much like Scout it's weird. Every now and then she will do something that only Scout girl would have done. I'm always saying, "Scout used to do that." And Skye LOVES to lay in front of the fireplace!
If you have a cat then you know what it's like to have them as part of your family. And if you don't have children, they are your children.
My dear friend Marie, I call her Bernard, just lost her beloved cat, Angelo Buttertoast Jones. They've been together for many years. I would bet he was her pal, too, like Scout was for me. And I'm pretty sure they shared everything together. She's hurting right now and I just want to let her know that I completely understand what she is going through.
I hope she knows she is not alone and that Angelo, that big beautiful Tabby, will always be in her heart. All of what he is and was, she can have forever.
Marie's blog is called A story nonetheless. You can read about Angelo Buttertoast Jones the Cat here.
Thanks for being here, everybody.