Remembering My Girl

“I don’t do plants or pets,” I always said. Pets are too much responsibility for the sake of inevitable grief. Cats, in particular, are just plain irritating. They get their hair into the dark recesses of your sofa, scratch up abstractions all over your skin, and never seem to settle into one mood state. Perhaps they are just a reminder of the female condition, and we women don’t need such reminders. Nor do you men. As for plants, I am greatly skilled at killing them off - even the plastic ones. Thus, I boycott both.
I met Naomi, though, when I first visited him. I’d had a rough day at work, and she instantaneously jumped on me to offer comfort. She’s afraid of people, so this was a good sign. In spite of myself, I let Naomi (aka “Nomezie”) become my girl immediately. Nomezie is quite a beauty. Isn’t she? 

Cats in general challenge us. They do not actually love unconditionally. They require loving treatment, and they have good instincts. If you are worthy, and if you adore them, they will reciprocate. If not, you have made an enemy for life, and you WILL regret it.

The thing about losing a cat, then, is that it can be really tough. Of course, losing a person is highly traumatic, but let me venture to say that losing a pet can actually be worse. I mean, they don’t have the capacity for malice. They don’t entangle us in tense interactions. They don’t leave the toilet seat up, nor do they toss their dirty undies on the couch. Seems I’m on a roll. I’ll save the rest for another post.

Anyway, cats keep us company when they want to, look after us when we need them to, and generally go about their business without asking much of anything in return. Keeping it real, human loss can be incredibly relieving. It’s sometimes uplifting to have all that tension gone in a snap. Pet loss, though, has no relief component. It’s just pure sadness.

Almost three years after meeting her, I had to relay a heartbreaking “goodbye.” Nomezie looked up at me with her big grey eyes that asked, “Why?” I had no answer, and I knew I would never see her again. I said “goodbye,” with all the strength I could muster, during visits to retrieve the last of my possessions. I thanked my girl for teaching me to love a cat. 


My sister, Dawn, lost her Shayna a few days ago. She’d been Dawn’s for almost 19 years. Admittedly, Shayna and I did not like each other very much. I finally realized this in the middle of the night as Shayna pounced on my face aggressively, while I slept on Dawn’s couch. The next day, when I was alone with Shayna in Dawn’s little apartment, I could not find her. I was distraught with fear that she had escaped. Turned out, Shayna was hiding in the closet all day long, until Dawn got home. Dawn was amused. Me, not so much. That’s how loyal Shayna was to Dawn, though. Yeah, that’s it. It wasn’t because of my “I hate cats, and I didn’t appreciate you pouncing on my face last night while I was asleep, because I hate cats” vibe or anything.

Rest in peace, Shayna. Thank you for watching out for Dawn all those years.
 
To My Dear Nomezie, mommy misses you very much. I really hope you are okay. Know that I still love you.
Now, I’m back to boycotting pets and plants, even plastic versions of either.