My last 14 days have been rather like a whirlwind. Two weeks ago, my dear sweet cat, Timon, had to be put down. He has been with me since he was a few months old, for the last 14 years. For the last few years, he has been living with Feline Diabetes, following a special diet. At first I was told he had about 6 months to live, but that was 3 ½ years ago. Oddly, when I took him to the vet, it was not the FD that got him. He had tumors and was failing. So in the end, he had beaten the diabetes.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess. Timon was my cranky teenaged son, and had been with me in moves to Rhode Island, Vermont and back to Delaware. Every night, he jumped up in bed with me, to get some scratching before going to sleep. He would have conversations with me, although I would often think he was rolling his eyes at me. When I called, he came to me. When he called to me, I would always give him a pet. I played ‘Back To Love’ by Tom Goss, and it helped a bit. It reminded me to remember the good times, and there certainly were many.That weekend, I was already scheduled to go on a trip to NYC to see friends, both old and new. I had a good time, but have to admit I was still a bit numb. But I got in on Friday, saw David, and met lots of new friends. We talked and drank, but I know I wasn’t really at my best form, more like riding at 80%. The weekend was a good one, and certainly the distraction I was looking for, only with the benefit of being a distraction with great people.I came home, only to find myself still expecting to see Timon waiting. He wasn’t. But I had much on the schedule – my niece had a dance recital, and she had asked me to take pictures during the dress rehearsals, so Wednesday and Thursday nights were booked.And there was the wedding reception of another niece on Saturday, and the baptism/birthday party for my nephew’s son. I enjoyed myself, but still was feeling a bit outside myself.Since Timon left me, I have not been sleeping so well. I lay awake in bed, not getting to sleep. I know I am waiting for him to jump up on the bed and get his scratches, but it isn’t going to happen. I keep hoping it will get better. Perhaps it has – I haven’t really noticed yet.
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