I really don’t know if I can take it, folks…
So much loss around. Global and national on the macro and it keeps coming on the micro.
I’m just trying to wrap my brain around accepting that Monkey is about done. I have had him just shy of 16 years and he’s about 16 years old. He was already feral when I trapped him and his siblings in August of 2004. They were about three months old. Ferals always stay a little skittish, twitchy, ready to split or take a shot. Monkey was always timid and nervous. His sister, LaFonda, the runt, was a fighter.
It’s really hard to know when to let a cat go, take them in, ease them out. It’s hard until it isn’t. We’re about there. I think I can take it. I have been preparing.
I don’t know if it’s transference or just being human. I don’t know if I’m healthy or confused. I’ve been half ready for Monkey to die for months, maybe a year. He’s been sick. I was in no way ready for Lynn to die. Why would I be? It never even crossed my mind. I’m haunted by the fact that when she was sick in my house she was dying. I was treating a fever, she was fighting for her life. I keep thinking I would have acted differently if I knew she was dying. Of course I would have but I didn’t because why would I have even thought that? The fact remains, she was. She is gone.
I’ve known Monkey is sick. He’s given me over a month of what may be borrowed time or maybe he knew I needed him around. I cherished that time and stayed connected with him daily for hours. I talked to him. I told him I loved him and he’s been with me through so much. I can use him as a marker for so many of the events that have happened in my life over the last 16 years. I told him. I cried. He snuggled up and took it.
I could do that with him. I didn’t with Lynn. I didn’t know she was dying.
He’s in distress now. He’s not really purring or taking the love. He seems distant, out of it. He’s drinking a lot of water. He’s struggling. He’s making deep grumbling noises and whimpers. It’s time.
I’ll take him today, unless I don’t because he seems chipper.
I believe I’m ready. I believe he is.
He was of the original crew of cats that actually defined my broadcasting voice. I found it in the stories of those cats. Monkey, LaFonda, Meanie and Hissy. The crew. Meanie split when he got the chance. Hissy was adopted by some nice lady. Monkey and LaFonda made it out west, became celebrities, notorious. Lived large, great, full lives.
Today I talk to Janelle Monet. She is one of the most talented people alive. On Thursday I talk to Nora McInery about grief, which has become her calling. Great talks.
Enjoy!
Love,
Maron