And Then There Were Three

Angel Cats

“Angel cats are just pretend
Just sorrows that will never mend”

But if I believe that, I’m untrue
To someone who loved me and you.
For I have felt my cat’s sweet weight
As she cuddles into bed so late
And heard her purrs, and felt her sigh
Mend my grief: sweet lullaby.

Faulty vision? I think not!
An angel cat, off like a shot
For that was how she ran while here:
Now plain sight, now disappear.
Angel cats are surely real
They stay in touch to help us heal
Their fur dries tears that will not dry
And as we mend, our spirits fly.
Rachel McGrath-Kerr

I had to let go of my Mouse.

That’s the decision that had me so distracted the last few days.

Unfortunately no one had a magic wand that could send him back to the one pound kitten he was when we first met 18 years ago.

His name was originally to be Rudy only he squeaked with every step so it soon became Mouse instead. He and his twin, Bixby, used to have purring contests that kept me awake at night. Mouse stopped purring over a week ago. That’s when my heart started to break. Bix seems as lost as I feel. He keeps looking at me as if asking what I’ve done with his brother. I know he knows he’s not coming home and it’s my fault but he’s purring at me anyway. Thank you, Bixby. I need purring now.

When Mouse was agitated about something and talkative he would meow every eight seconds, yes, I timed him, until he was too hoarse to continue. I always felt guilty for not understanding what he was trying to tell me although sometimes I suspected he talked just because he liked the sound of his own voice. I hadn’t heard that in a week either.

My Mouse had the most expressive tail too. He’d swat it in ways that let me know in no uncertain terms he had an opinion on whatever was going on whether it was time for food or one of the other cats had his toy or I was in his seat. Let me tell you, when Mouse wanted your attention one swat of his tail was all it took to get it.

I’m not sure I can write without him. Seriously, I don’t think I can. I strongly suspect he’s the true storyteller in the house. I never typed a word without him lounging behind me on my chair or on my lap with his paw between my hands on the keyboard. Other than this, my mind is blank. Maybe that’ll pass with the numbness I feel but I’ll have to wait and see.

I do have other cats but they’re all individuals. To me, each has his own unique personality. None of the others can replace Mouse just as he could never have replaced any of them. Mouse was my lap cat and now my lap is empty, just like a big chunk of my heart.