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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13796
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Bramble was my last cat. She almost reached 20 years old. She was born in this house and she died in it just two weeks ago. She's buried under an acer tree in our garden. All our creatures are buried in our back garden.
But I keep seeing her around the house. Not "her", but a shadow of "where she just was". I miss her.
We named her Bramble becaise you could not put her down. Even as a baby kitten it was like trying to get free from a bramble bush. She never learnt how to unhook her claws. Even walking across the carpet she used to get stuck sometimes.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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I lived 13 years with a cat, Charlie, that died at 15, and my daughter's cat Max, who is now 13. Both cats got wise, for lack of a better term, in their later years. Maybe it's a cat zen thing. Max exudes and Charlie exuded an aura of self-assurance and peace that they apparently had to grow into.
Kathy and I really missed Charlie when he died, and we will miss boney old Max in a few years when his cat-soul goes to the all-you-can-eat fish/mouse/sparrow farm in the sky and his body gets buried out back under the beech tree.
Here's to Bramble.
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I was brought up with cats in the house - my parents always had them. When I formed an independent household we didn't have cats. It was a good thing because we discovered that Emily (No 1 daughter) was allergic to them. The clue was that whenever we went to see my parents she was ill - runny nose, sniffles and breathing problems. So we took her to an expert and she was tested and the cat sensitivity confirmed.
My parents either wouldn't believe it or wouldn't act on it. The consequence was that they saw a lot less of their grandchildren than they might have done - we could only go when it was warm enough to camp out in the garden!
Their loss. But then I discovered that my brother was plagued for a lot of his baby years with 'infantile asthma' as it was diagnosed then. And I heard that he was quite ill and had severe breathing difficulties. He died of a heart attack at 59 and I suspect his heart had been weakened by those childhood illnesses. And I think he was maybe also allergic to cat hair/dandruff.
It's amazing how much you can blame parents for when you really try!
Love,
Anthony
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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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I miss my Kittykat........
Sniff........
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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Zambezi
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Toe is in the water |
Location: Various (!)
Registered: January 2004
Messages: 40
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Tim, I've met Bramble and have been honoured enough to hold her and understand exactly why she was given that name.
I hope she is resting in peace. What you describe is the "empty chairs at empty tables" issue that afflicts all of us who have lost part of our lives with the passing of a loved one. Don't be afraid to grieve, for she was not a cat but part of the family.
If at first you don't succeed, then skydiving isn't for you.
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13796
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Holding her was never easy  She meant well, but was wholly unable to control her claws.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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