Eulogy for Morticia
Today I journeyed to Olympia to look for the wonderful cat that is/was Morticia. My family left for a vacation yesterday, and told me she had been missing for several days. I said I would go and look for her before I joined them on Tuesday.
I looked today with a bag of kitty treats in my hand shaking and calling out her name the way she loves to have her name spoken. After so many years with an animal, you noticed which voice tones they will respond to and which they won't. I looked not so much thinking she would emerge from the blackberry brambles with a meow on her lips, so much as I was searching for her body. She was/is an old kitty, and she was showing her age. I also looked for signs of a struggle, as my parents live in an area where coyotes roam. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. I would just be surprised if it had happened to her.
Morticia was/is a different sort of kitty. She was independent in a way that wasn't adolescent defiance so much as she was secure in her cat-hood. She was a proud huntress, capable of catching nimble prey. Out of all the cats my parents pretend to own(of course because the cats own them...), she would be the one most likely to survive on her own in the wild. She drank from the lake, prowled the wilder parts of the property and loved attention, but never demanded it.
As I stared out over the field of tall, golden grass in the horse field across from my parent's place, I wondered if she knew what she meant to our family. How much joy, laugher and love that she, a single kitty brought to a house which often sits under a cloud of melancholy, sickness and darkness. Her purr and meows were sprightly in tone. She knew a game when she saw one and would play eagerly willing to fell blows with her sharp claws on any who dared challenge her. She accepted love and attention, but never sought it out. Her independence as a creature was fairly complete.
What I wish is that she has sought some new adventure in her life. That the blackberry brambles had been explored to the point where she was ready to move on into the woods and beyond looking for a new life, a new home and whatever else her heart desired. Perhaps, she had finally transitioned into a wild cat and could see no point returning to her domesticated life.
I write with tears in my eyes. I would have loved to have said goodbye. If she had been human, she would have pshawed me greatly, a look in her eye that would say 'don't you know that life in its circular motion is also never ending'? Memories do not end, but surface when we need them most. There are no real goodbyes in life.
I too long for a new adventure. I too, look not to be defeated in the face of domination, but to rise up again, like the phoenix, breathless for life and the journey it holds. A relationship has ended, when I thought it would not; my father's cancer has returned when I thought it would not; my life is, what I thought it would not be. I am running full speed into 33 years, ever grateful for everyone one of them, and determined not to squander the beautiful moments that are given to me. Who knows? Maybe I'll run into Morticia on a slow boat to China, or meet her at the running of the bulls in Pamplona, or dashing through the jungles of India or Brazil. Anything and everything is still possible.
I am willing to say yes everyday with an open heart, and maybe someday, someone will call my name the way I like to be called and I will answer.
World Girl
I looked today with a bag of kitty treats in my hand shaking and calling out her name the way she loves to have her name spoken. After so many years with an animal, you noticed which voice tones they will respond to and which they won't. I looked not so much thinking she would emerge from the blackberry brambles with a meow on her lips, so much as I was searching for her body. She was/is an old kitty, and she was showing her age. I also looked for signs of a struggle, as my parents live in an area where coyotes roam. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. I would just be surprised if it had happened to her.
Morticia was/is a different sort of kitty. She was independent in a way that wasn't adolescent defiance so much as she was secure in her cat-hood. She was a proud huntress, capable of catching nimble prey. Out of all the cats my parents pretend to own(of course because the cats own them...), she would be the one most likely to survive on her own in the wild. She drank from the lake, prowled the wilder parts of the property and loved attention, but never demanded it.
As I stared out over the field of tall, golden grass in the horse field across from my parent's place, I wondered if she knew what she meant to our family. How much joy, laugher and love that she, a single kitty brought to a house which often sits under a cloud of melancholy, sickness and darkness. Her purr and meows were sprightly in tone. She knew a game when she saw one and would play eagerly willing to fell blows with her sharp claws on any who dared challenge her. She accepted love and attention, but never sought it out. Her independence as a creature was fairly complete.
What I wish is that she has sought some new adventure in her life. That the blackberry brambles had been explored to the point where she was ready to move on into the woods and beyond looking for a new life, a new home and whatever else her heart desired. Perhaps, she had finally transitioned into a wild cat and could see no point returning to her domesticated life.
I write with tears in my eyes. I would have loved to have said goodbye. If she had been human, she would have pshawed me greatly, a look in her eye that would say 'don't you know that life in its circular motion is also never ending'? Memories do not end, but surface when we need them most. There are no real goodbyes in life.
I too long for a new adventure. I too, look not to be defeated in the face of domination, but to rise up again, like the phoenix, breathless for life and the journey it holds. A relationship has ended, when I thought it would not; my father's cancer has returned when I thought it would not; my life is, what I thought it would not be. I am running full speed into 33 years, ever grateful for everyone one of them, and determined not to squander the beautiful moments that are given to me. Who knows? Maybe I'll run into Morticia on a slow boat to China, or meet her at the running of the bulls in Pamplona, or dashing through the jungles of India or Brazil. Anything and everything is still possible.
I am willing to say yes everyday with an open heart, and maybe someday, someone will call my name the way I like to be called and I will answer.
World Girl
posted by World Girl at 2:21 PM
2 Comments:
For what it is worth, nobody ever gets to say goodbye.
well written. We have four cats, including one named Morticia. Do they want another cat? Or perhaps a large black dog?
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