I’ve been offline for the past month, mostly because I’ve been spending time with my cat Lebowski. Five weeks ago we found out he is terminally ill, and my heart shattered when I thought it was only a matter of days before I had to say goodbye. Instead, we’ve been gifted all this extra time so I’m soaking up the love while I still have the chance. Trying hard to ignore the heartbreak in my future.
Lebowski is one of the most loving felines I’ve ever known and he wants to be close to me all the time. He’s either on my lap or curled against my leg (he even sits next to my head while I do my planks, enduring the extra-loud Green Day I blast for motivation). He likes being outside so we sit on the deck beneath an old shower curtain I’ve rigged to give us shade, his tail gently flicking as he watches birds in the yard and squirrels running along the fence. I caress my kitty and listen to his purr, trying hard not to think too far into the future. Trying hard to stay in the moment, memorizing the arch of his neck when he’s angling for the best scratch. Memorizing the silky feel of his tail sliding through my fingers and the sight of the long-long whiskers that grew on a once-wide cat.
Because Lebowski likes me stationary, I’ve been doing LOTS of reading. The writing hasn’t been happening, in part because when I work at my standing desk, the kitty comes in and meows up at me until I get down on the floor and rub his tummy. Instead, I’ve read stacks of books (lots of them good and others not-so-good) these past weeks. It feels right to read other writers’ words while I fill my heart with Lebowski.
Mostly I’m trying hard to remember that while this isn’t the long happily-ever-after I’d hoped for when Lebowski came into my life, every day with him is a gift.