Pretty Hard Yesterday

We were strolling along the Wharf, and I saw a banner proclaiming 'Happy Father's Day'.

Me to Hubby: "That's right! Happy Father's Day to you!"
Hubby to Me: "Why? We don't have (human) kids."
Me to Hubby: "Of course we do! We have four!"
Hubby to Me: "Oh, hon...."
Me: "What? Oh...ohhhh" Trying hard not to cry.
Hubby: "Yeah, sometimes I think we still have four too."

Checking out other bloggers' layouts, and came across another cat blogger's pic of their sleeping kitty. For a sec, I almost thought it must be Bubby. Wanted to leave a comment about that, limited myself to a short compliment.

Changed Header

Felt compelled to do so. Getting a LOT of hits on Mozart searches, and I can just imagine when they get our kitty baby instead of the composer. LMAO!!!!! Although, sometimes it's a little disturbing what people are searching for about Mozart (the composer).

A Dream

5:50am this morning I woke up from the first dream of Mozart that I remembered.

It was very early morning, I was very groggy, but it was time for their breakfast, so Hubby and I made our way down. We watched the 3 kitties running down the stairs ahead of us, then Mozart appeared behind them. I knew he was dead, and he was only appearing because I was so groggy, but I was still so overjoyed and relieved to see him. I scooped him up right away to cuddle and it was so wonderful to feel him purring away all fitted up in my arms, just the way only he could feel. I was telling Hubby to pet him cause he'd stopped purring, then we laughed when he started up right away again after petting.

I knew I couldn't hold him forever, I had to put him down to let him eat breakfast, but I knew I'd never see him again when I put him down, so I didn't want to. He gave me 2 strange mews, and I let him go, finally, and watched him trot off to the kitchen, and I knew I wouldn't see him again. I woke up as Hubby was telling me that I'd been holding nothing, and that he'd never been in my arms.

I miss my boy.

Peripheral Vision

While working on the computer, a noise outside caught our attention, and peripherally I watched 3 sets of kitty ears perk up and point left to hear. For a second, I thought Mozart was up on the center tree, and looked up to smile at him, before I remembered.

It's been really hard. I'm still crying a lot, at all odd times, when it just hits me. I'm very angry. It's not fair. I want my little boy back.

I immediately change the subject when people ask about it. I still can't talk or think about him without tearing up right away. It's still too raw. We miss him so much.

Finally Updated 'About Me'

Changed number of furkids to 3, and Mozart to the 'angel kitty'. Really hard. Cried a bit. Just one more little acknowledgment again that he's gone.

The other day I cried and cried and cried for a couple hours straight. Looked thru his pics and hugged his little cremains box. I miss him so much. Oh boy. Set me off again now.

Mozart's Squirrel

I miss him so much today. Saw the squirrel running along the fence. Remembered Mozart running from patio door to patio door to window following the critter.

Bad Weekend - Floating Fur

I cried and cried most of this weekend. Started Friday with looking up kitty emergency info for Pam, and afterward, happened on the pages on emergency CPR procedures. Had one of those wishful-thinking moments envisioning myself having rushed to Mozart and performed CPR. But then I know that he might have been brain- or other- damaged, and I wouldn't want that. But the next page had a pic of a sick orange kitty laying on his back looking at the camera.

Next night, friends gave their condolences at a get-together, and I said, thanks, yes, he was really special. Trying to keep it light, I described how a halo of gently drifting fur floated upwards from a very still Mozart, beatifically illuminated in the sunlight. Hence his nickname Sir-Sheds-A-Lot. Later I thought of how much I missed that, and would never see it again.

Next day at another get-together, another friend showed pics of their dogs that had passed a while back. Again thought of our own pics scattered around the house, and knowing that it's going to be this hard even after time's passed. It's not gotten easier.