Time Will Never Wipe You Out

When Alex died I was so devastated. Everything was difficult. Breathing was difficult. I had such a wonderful and soulful connection with him. If you don't understand animals you'll never understand that statement. I get it. "Where are your priorities?" "He was an old cat..." Yes, I've heard people say such things. Alex was eleven and half years old, but he was a kitten at heart. And such an active, playful boy! However, given that cats can live to be 17 to 20 years old...eleven is kind of young to die. He had cancer. No one saw it coming, not even his vet. He was good one day and the next...

It still hurts.

I have Chance. He will be eleven in March. Alex has been gone now for nearly four years, but when I say his name, Chance will look around or he'll look at me and twitch his ears. He remembers his brother.

I wasn't so sure that I should get another cat, or any form of companionship, after Alex died. I can't let go very easily. Animals, people, objects...If there is meaning and deep feelings attached, I simply die when they vanish. I walk around, but I'm dead inside. I feel this way daily. I've lost too much. I'd rather be alone. I'm better off and so are they...

My cousin, however, seems to think otherwise...

In August of 2016 she sends me this photo:

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M: "You NEED this kitten. This kitten NEEDS you! He was abandoned by his mother and has been in my back yard for two days crying. I took him in and gave him a bath. R says that I can't have him. He says we have too many now."
ME: "You NEED to divorce your husband. That's what YOU need to do and keep the kitten!"


What a cute picture. So...of course I drove three hours to pick him up. As soon as I had this kitten in my arms, my heart melted and I was already thinking about names. Shakespeare? Hemingway? Willy? Byron? Max?

Then the vet dropped a bomb...It's a girl! A girl?? I'm not used to girls...

Anyway, to make this blog a little shorter, I ended up keeping this sweet little girl. I named her Ava. She will be four in July. In that picture she is only about three or four weeks old. She was so tiny. The very first night she slept with her tiny body resting on my neck with her head against my chin. And she drooled. Ugh! I had to bottle feed her for a little while...she wasn't quite coordinated! She still sleeps on my chest, but thank God she doesn't drool anymore!

Nothing in this world could ever take the place of my sweet boy, Alex. I have his ashes here and his picture framed. I speak of him often. Ava did not fill the void, but she, along with Chance, keep me smiling and capable of loving. I don't know how I'll get through losing Chance and I worry about him all the time.

Here are a few more pictures...

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This picture was taken right after the long trip back. She was exhausted. She had cried all the way home...ALL THE WAY HOME.




This is Chance clearly stating : "What were thinking...?"

He grooms her all the time. He has been such a wonderful big brother...







Ava, now...





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