Vanished

There he is. My little cutie-pie Newton. Taken about three years ago before he started losing weight and becoming more and more a shrinking little old man. At just over sixteen and a half years old it's not surprising that he is slowing down. And as of midday yesterday, I asked Reid if he had seen Newton, and we realized that it had been hours since either of us had. We searched every square inch of the house and did not find him. And with a predicted sub-zero night I began to wonder if he had somehow slipped outside, though he has always been a decidedly indoor cat who never made a dash for an open door. At times he would step outside onto the deck or the front steps and sniff the air in an investigative fashion but would almost immediately turn around and come back inside. We did look around outside last night but didn't see him. So then I wondered if he might be in the garage, lots of corners to duck into and hide. Today I took a serious look around in the garage but still no Newton. It has now been well over a day, nearly a day and a half since I last saw my tan and gray tiger with his adorable terra-cotta nose. I can't imagine that he could have survived in the bitter cold, even if he was hunkered down in the garage rather than being out in the elements. I woke to between four and five inches of new snow on the ground this morning, derailing any possibility of finding him out there. He has shrunk down in the last couple of years to just fur and bones and has become neglectful of grooming himself. But he remained a robust eater and easily loped up and down the basement steps to use the litter box. I miss him so. He was a talker, always in a conversation with me. I have known for at least a couple of months that he was declining, he spent nearly all of his time sleeping. If I saw him lounging somewhere fast asleep, I got so I paused for a moment to make sure he was breathing. I hate that I'm talking about him in past tense, but the reality is that he probably is gone in every sense of the word. So I'm sad. And I wonder if we will find his little body. I want to wrap him up in a blanket and hold him again, one more time, even if his kitty spirit has taken leave. 

 

Puzzling

I was optimistic about having some sort of social life when I moved here because I had two women friends in the area, both of whom I have known for well over ten years. The first I have not seen one single time in the nearly seven years since I became a Colorado resident. Even though more than once I have extended invitations to her to get together, and also invited her to soirees at my home. She has politely declined all of them. We remain friendly on the social media, I have no indication of why she has pulled back from seeing me in person. The second, whom I met through the first, I have seen one time. I was recently reminded of that occasion when a facebook memory popped up with a photo of us together. Just like with the other friend, I have extended numerous invitations, none of which she accepted. I can't help but feel that things are a little chilly between us but I can't really say why. I didn't expect either of them to drop everything and be my bestie. All I hoped for was to meet them for a drink or coffee or maybe to attend an event together on occasion. Or to have them over to see my cozy home that I have come to love. I have long since given up on ever seeing them. I can't say I'm terribly sad, I have moved on and accepted that whatever is going on in their lives doesn't leave room for me. The pandemic, you say? This disengagement happened well before Covid-19 descended upon the land. People have the right to change their minds about all sorts of relationships and to keep company with those they feel most attached to or have the most in common with. I know that I have let go of people at times. Most of the time through neglect on both sides, until it simply feels weird to be the first one to reach out. So here I am perhaps two weeks away from leaving here, moving out of state for a number of reasons. Mostly to be closer to my elder son and darling dilly. A little sad for the couple of people here that I have become great friends with. But just like the friends I was sad to leave behind in South Dakota, many have come to visit, some more than once. I expect these friends will, too.

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Glen Campbell

And I need you more than want you, and I want you for all time.

Absolutely the best line ever to express how one human can love another. Thanks, Jimmy Webb, for writing those words. And thanks, Glen, for singing them so beautifully.

  

February Rabbits

Love Bunnies