When I lived out of home, Harry was my Christmas present one year. He was a silver tabby. He was from the Cats' Home. He was a runt and little and gorgeous. He was beautiful
In short, without being able to explain the ins and outs and HOW significant he was in my life, Harry was my child. Never having actually given birth, I can't really say, but I canNOT imagine loving a human child more than I loved my cat. Loving something MORE than Harry goes beyond belief. He was my reason for being. I know that sounds kind of wankys and singly-womany but he was the NICEST, most AWESOMEST, totally FANTASTIC, most PERFECT cat ever. I loved Harry, have you picked up on that? When I decided to go for a shopping drive to the other end of the state, I never realised that I would come back to the news that Harry had been run over AT THE END OF MY DRIVEWAY (ie. half a second from safety that I'd denied him by letting him out of the house for a run) no more than half an hour after I'd left I got back from my shopping trip. I cried. I cried some more. I watched a movie. I cried again. I went to work. I cried yet again (I'm tearing as I type this and it's been nearly a year. I loved that bloody cat) Anyway, my family had an 18th party for my cousin, The Champ, tonight. My grandmother, Maria (and no, we don't say "nanna" or "nan" or "grandma", we say "Maria") forgot to bring The Champ's present when she drove over to his house so I (being sober while she was NOT) drove her home to pick up the sparkly, ribbon-y, gift-wrapped present. But at the top of Maria's street, I had to swerve to miss a feline body on the road While Maria went inside to grab the pressie, I walked up the street to see if the cat was still alive (cos you'd better believe, if it'd been alive, I was TAKING IT TO THE VET AND SAVING ITS FUCKING LIFE!) but no, when I reached it, the cat was lying still and there were some thick, goopy rivers of blood running down the road. It was awful Forget tearing, I'm just crying now. Sorry. But it made me think. How the hell could I have done things differently? I mean, I like Attila the Puss, he's gnarly. But Harry was one hell of a cat. Fuck, Harry was one hell of a HUMAN! And though it's been almost a year, and although I'm a sad bitch who needs to get out more, Harry was a fantabulous companion And I miss him shitloads tonight, the night before my first day at a new job Sorry for the depressing-ness, but I really love animals (not in a Catherine the Great way, just in a "they're smaller than me so I want to look after them" way) and cruelty and inconsideration towards them just throws me off kilter Shit. Big day tomorrow and I'm a mess tonight :S |
Yes, I so know what you mean as you well know and now you've made me get all teary and sad too, because Minerva is just not Lily, and Lily died on the 23 May 2003 and that was officially ages ago, and now I'm crying damn you!