REST IN PEACE, my darling FEATHER (a.k.a. Daisy, a.k.a. Winky, a.k.a. the Wonder Cat)
A ritual I will dearly miss:
Every day when I came home from work, Feather would have me timed. She would be waiting at the kitchen window and begin meowing loudly and enthusiastically as soon as she could see me coming down the walk from the parking lot. I would come in the back door, reach down and pet her fuzzy little head and recite the following:
Daddy's home... Daddy's home...
Home to his cat.
And if he didn't have a cat, he wouldn't even have to come home.
But he does.So he comes right home to his little cat.
Because...she's the best cat in the whole wide world.
“The truth is that no one is interested in why you want to kill yourself, no one really believes that you will, until you’ve already done it, and then it becomes morbidly intriguing to try and map it backward.” ~ THIS CLOSE TO HAPPY - A Reckoning With Depression, by Daphne Merkin
I am an introverted blue collar pilgrim, surviving near the center of the continent, on the fringes of a shopworn civilization. I abide in rooms full of partially-read tomes, each bookmarked with the fragment of a shattered illusion.