Monday, September 15, 2008

In memory

Thursday was a sad day here at home. My cat, Frankie, who's been with me for about 10 years, died that afternoon.

I knew that losing her would be hard, but I'm surprised just how hard it's been. Thursday night I couldn't even sleep in my room, because she wasn't there. And since Thursday there have been random, unexpected moments of unbelievable sadness.

I got Frankie from a girl in my first bible study, back in 1998. She was about a year old (maybe a little older) when she first came home with me, and she's been my constant companion ever since. We've moved to lots of different places in the last 10 years and she adjusted well to all of them. The next new place always felt like home because she was with me.

Since she's died, I've found myself wishing that I could find some evidence in the Bible that God's creation of "a new Heaven and a new Earth" includes animals... especially pets. It's funny, the things we try to do to comfort ourselves.

Frankie was a talker. She meowed about everything. It's how I was greeted everytime I came home, how she told me she was hungry, bored, or in need of attention. She slept, literally, *on* me, every night; either on my back or my stomach depending on which way I was laying. And every morning I was greeted with an affectionate "head bump", enthusiastic purring, and of course, meows.

When I sat at my desk, she sat in my lap. When I sat on the couch, she sat on the back of the couch, resting her front paws and head on my shoulder. If I sat in bed reading, she always tried to climb on top of whatever I was reading and sit on my lap. Always. In 10 years she never understood (or never cared) that sitting on a book meant she was going to get moved and possibly kicked off the bed. I think probably she just didn't care. She always wanted to be close. That was all that mattered to her.

When she was young, she was really playful (as most young cats are), but expensive cat toys never amused her. A simple string, paper bag or balled up piece of paper provided hours of entertainment. Store bought stuff was practically ignored.

As she got older, she played less but explored as much as ever. Though she was hesitant about new places, it never stopped her from checking out every nook and cranny she could get to.

She loved to sit in open windows and, like every cat, loved to nap in the sun.

I don't know where to go from here except to say that I can't believe she's gone. 11 or 12 is a good, old age for a cat, so I've known for a while that our time together was running short. Still... I wasn't ready to lose such a loyal and loving companion.

She will be so greatly missed, and I'm sure there many tears yet to be shed.
Rest in peace my dear, sweet friend. I love you.


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