Monday, April 15, 2013

Heartbreak - Losing Pookie to Reality


"Besides being complicated, reality, in my experience, is usually odd. It is not neat, not obvious, not what you expect." — C.S. Lewis


Yesterday morning I was drivng to the feeding stations when I saw something in the road just in front of the park.  There was a car ahead of me.  I strained to see around the car.  But the car steered around whatever it was, leaving me an open view.  It was a cat. 

I pulled over to take the cat out of the road and held my breath until I was close enough to see who it was.  It was Pookie.  She was dead.  She must have been hit hours before. 

I moved her out of the road and looked around in the open field for her kittens.  That's where she was headed when she was hit.  She had her litter a couple of weeks ago.  I couldn't find them.  Pookie was coming up on 1 year old.  I have been feeding her since she was a kitten.

I have felt so dejected since I found her, and, in addition, it is so very strange to me.  I had just a few days ago chosen her picture to use in my bio on a website.  Why of all the cats did I choose hers?  I think I felt like she was the invisible cat. 

Pookie was not demanding, yet I wouldn't call her timid. She was quiet, thoughtful. She liked to play when I would inititate it, but she wasn't playing with me, she was just playing.  I guess I chose her because I didn't want her to be invisible anymore.  I wanted to make sure I held her in regard.  And, yet, just the day before, she came late to the feeding, when I was about to head up top.  I gave her some milk, and some of the expensive crunchies I save for treats after meals, but I didn't open another can. 

I wish I had opened another can, especially because she was nursing kittens.  I didn't know it would be the last time I saw her alive.  Sometimes when I lose a cat, I break down immediately.  This time it has come over me hour by hour, the sadness and pain worsening and worsening.

Godspeed, Pookie.  I love you.  Thank you.



Reality, in fact, is usually something you could not have guessed.
— C.S. Lewis