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Meta's Notebook
This is my journal. I keep notes in it. Check out my evaluation of ticket prices, if you wish...
It's been a bad year for us cat-lovers. Since moving into our new house, we've had to bury three kitties. It's not the house's fault, I know, but it's still painful.

The first to go was Skinny Girl, one of the strays we brought with us from Cayuga. She had cancer, and a tumor was growing from her nose, blocking her breathing, when we decided that euthanasia was more kind than a natural death. It was hard, but we gave her a good home and a longer life than she would have had back on the East side.

The next cat to pass on was Dude. He came with the house. When we bought the place, we had no idea it came with a cat. He showed up when he felt like it, and left when he felt like it. When it was his time to go, he came back here, and died among our bushes. I didn't know Dude that well - in fact, I tried not to. I had five cats inside, and I felt I didn't need to become attached to another cat.

I did anyway. I remember getting my bike out to go to work, and kept wondering, "Where's Dude? I haven't seen Dude for days!" Even though I thought I was being a hard-a** and not becoming friends with another stray, I was wrong. Before Dude went, I was regularly feeding him in the afternoon, but not until I'd held out for some of his affection. When I found out that Dude was gone, it hurt - bad.

The final fallen friend was Poly (short for Polydactyl - she had six toes on each foot). We took her in while we lived at Cayuga. Technically, she was a Cayuga stray. Heck, most of my cats were strays, originally. Poly was a delicate little grey cat, so small that people thought of her as a kitten even after two years.

God, I miss her.

It was the worst death of them all. I've had three cats die before, all of old age. I'd gotten used to having my cats live for 17 years. Skinny had cancer, so we didn't expect her to live long. Same went for Dude. He was an outdoor cat, and the outside wolrd has many dangers. Poly - she was an indoor cat, "safe" from the world at large. Or so I thought.

She crawled under the couch and died. She was such a private cat that nobody noticed she was gone until she started to stink. That's the most horrible way to find out someone you love isn't with you. I keep asking myself why I didn't notice sooner. I don't have an answer... The only thing I can hold in my defense is this: if Poly wanted us to know, she would have come to us. She had no problem bothering people when it suited her. She also had no problem hiding from people when it suited her.

For all the cats I've known, loved, and had to bury, I salute you!

Anthrax, my first, my favorite - I salute you!
Thrasher, mate of Anthrax, I salute you!
Marlby, too young to have died in my arms, I salute you!
Deja Vu, so much like Thrasher - I salute you!
Judas, with your long, wafting hair, I salute you!
Metallica, daughter of Anthrax and Thrasher, I salute you!
Skinny Girl, kin of the Bugsey kitty, I salute you!
Dude, who became my friend regardless of my desires, I salute you!
Poly, my precious, tiny Poly, sister of Darwin... I salute you!

I miss you all, but I have no regrets. It is better to have known your love than to have never known you at all...





Meta Mikhail
Community Member
Meta Mikhail
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