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Saturday, April 18, 2020

A Week And A Day

Well, what do you do when all the unused pictures you have have an OTB cat in them?  You show them in loving memory, and you write a bad poem.





These are the last pictures of Iza.

But there is a story to tell about the last.  On her final day out on the deck, she oddly chose to sit partially under the smoker cover.  And partially in the rainwater that collected in the deck-protecting tray underneath.

Here's the thing I needed to think about for a few days.

When she sat on the deck the last day, there were a couple of vultures that sat in the tree above her.  They never did that before.  I saw them above a rabbit that was dying in the yard next door once, though.  From what I've read, vultures are entirely visually-oriented and have a poor sense of smell.

I think that is untrue.  They KNEW she was dying.  I generally understood that she was having serious medical issues.  But I went out and waved my hands at them and they went away for a while.  But they returned. 

I brought her inside, and indeed, she basically fell apart physically overnight.  It was slow for a few months, but quick at the end, and I am grateful for that in a way.

But those vultures KNEW!

I don't mean to be spooky, I don't mean to be scary, I don't mean to assign vultures extrasensory abilities.  But they couldn't see her and they KNEW.  They say vultures can't smell.  I think they can. I think they smelled death coming.

When I brought Iza inside, they left.

And now a bad poem.  More a prose, I suppose.  Based loosely on 'One More Bell To Answer'...

One less can to open,
One less bowl to clean,
One less litter box to empty.

I should be happy
But all I do is cry...

Since she left, my life’s so empty.
Though the others remain, I just can’t forget.
Each time I wake in the night, she’s not there.
I don’t know how in the world
To stop thinking of her,
And her spot on the bed is bare.

No more lap-napping,
No more purrs.
No more stroking of fur,
No more heaty-mat lounging,
No more she’s just “there”.



And I think that is the last I should say except for future Flashback Fridays  (of which she will of course be included). 

Thank you all for caring.  It is now time to move on.  Take pictures of Ayla and Marley, take pictures of the garden, but also as I build Iza's marker and equally consider a new addition to The Mews. 

Iza's door here has closed.  But it also opens to a new kitty.  The Tonkie breeder I contacted is suddenly not being responsive.  I suspect that means their waiting list is filled.  I choose to not wait for long.  There are many other cats that need a good home.

Mark