One Week Today

A week ago this morning, my cats were still alive. I have cried on and off throughout the week, remembering, "Last week at this time...". Last week at this time, as I was feeding the cats their morning wet food, I cried, knowing that would be the last time all three of them would circle around my feet and meow, whine and beg.

It's been a long week of seeing them where they should be, but were not. My black winter boots at the back door look a lot like Ping. The shape of the vases on our dresser look like Sophie watching over us. When Mike came home from work in the morning, he expected to see Ping at the back door, but she wasn't.

It's also been a long week of trying to get the last image of them out of my head...the two of them, laying on the table, side by side, staring vacantly off into space, their little souls no longer in their bodies. Yes, that's right...I believe my pets have souls.

The day we put them down, I kept bugging Mike (somewhat jokingly) that I wanted another kitten...something to help me with my mourning. If Mike would have said yes, I would have been at the pet store in a heartbeat. But then it dawned on me that it wouldn't be fair to Ping and Sophie...they would have been needlessly put down if I was just going to get another cat. So, as a compromise, I bought myself a large, pink stuffed cat from Stupidstore. It will go in Baby's room eventually, but for now, it sits on top of my dresser, watching over Mike and I, just like Sophie used to do. Only it doesn't shed nearly as much. Or shit in obscure corners of the basement. Or puke in the center of the hallway so that when you get up in the middle of the night with barefeet, you step right in the pile, letting the barf squish between your toes. Oh, the good memories just keep on rolling...