S is for sad. When a human lives longer than his cat, the human is often sad.
Four years ago today, I made my human sad.
I was slow coming home to the colony on Friday evening. He hadn't seen me on Wednesday or Thursday. He tried to keep me safe from the coyotes, since I couldn't run or fight like usual. He let me out to eat. One day, I found a nice place in the far corner of the hay pen. He put me on top of the hay, but I didn't stay. I wandered off, and he didn't see me again for a couple days. I did come back. I had trouble drinking. I had to turn my head sideways. I tried going down to the pond for a drink (I passed Parker on the way), but he didn't realize that I just wanted to drink and kept me from going swimming or drowning myself in the pond. He tried some canned food to get me to eat, but even doing that was too much (Parker finished it for me). Friday morning the 8th of June in 2012, he came to the colony and found me stiff and unresponsive. The sun made my fur feel warm when the touched it.
He buried me under my favorite hay bale in a 100% cotton pillowcase. He tries to find the wooden grave marker whenever he comes to visit the farm, but he did not see it last time.
Although I purred on his lap earlier that week (he felt it but did not hear it), I would never purr for him again. There would be no new pictures with me. If he wants a picture of me, he has to look at what he already has. I would never sit and sleep on his lap with my sister Parker again. I would not be leaving the farm with him and Parker to live in an apartment in town in the fall. I would not be spending years and years inside with him. I would never chase bugs, birds, or mice again. I would never sit with him when he was feeling sad again. I would never ride with him when he went to visit the farm. I would never get to meet any of his human friends. No more doing funny things he might want to talk about online. No typing on the computer or printing test pages.
He wrote about these things before..