First Snow

So, we got our first major snow of the season.  I'm a little freaked out, but I'll get over it soon, I'm sure.  Meanwhile, the critters were so curious about what was going on outside, I took them for a quick look-see in the snow.  Imagine my surprise at their reactions.  Ginza and Kayla were just straining to run around in the snow to look around.  Pixie couldn't stand the snow, and refused to put her paws anywhere near the stuff.

So of course Hubby and I were chuckling about how adventurous Mozart was, and how he'd have been first out on the snow enjoying himself.  We're close to the anniversary of his passing, and the pain has eased, but the loss is still deep with us, and we miss him so much.  Times like this first snow we wish he could have experienced.

Someone Visited His Catster Page Today

It was nice, the person left a hot dog for him.  Had also lost several furrkids.

We miss him so much.  I still cry when I think of him, and I just remembered again taking his little body to the vet.  It still hurts so much, but at least now there's a day or two that go by when I don't think of him, so I think I'm healing well enough.  Sometimes, though, I'll suddenly get a vivid memory, and I'm almost convinced he's still with us.  Wow, the mind is tricky.

The house is getting sold, and it's so sad to let it go, like we're leaving Mozart behind.  I wish I'd remembered earlier to take his ashes, instead he's all packed up.

Feels Like We Left Mozart Behind

It's nonsensical, I know, but it feels like when we left our house, we left Mozart behind.  Hubby said that's not true, he's in our memory, and that's always with us, but it still feels like we abandoned him.  We have all these memories of him in that house.  That's where he played, lived, slept.  We have memories of him dashing around the corner, up the stairs, into bedrooms, peering between banisters.  His fur was still everywhere, and probably his scent.  I know the exact spot where he collapsed and died.

We still miss him so much, and I still expect him to appear any minute now.

Popping Up Frequently

As next month nears, Mozart's been popping up more and more in my thoughts.  I've been having more dreams of him that I remember, like just this morning.  Nothing extraordinary, just him doing his usual thing.  My emotions have been bubbling up a bit more too, I start tearing up again just thinking about him again.  I'm remembering him collapse in front of me, instead of the happier memories I was trying to focus on before.  It'll be a hard anniversary.

We miss him so much.  I just want him back.

Too Soon To Talk About Bubby

At dinner last week, we got asked about our cats. I had to say 3, but had to mention we had 4, and mentioned Bubby's death. Started to change the subject, then, I don't know why, I recounted the first time I saw him and how we came to adopt him. Was I testing myself? I was ok, I thought. I kept it short and cute. I didn't cry, my voice didn't quaver. We all laughed, and said, 'awwww', sweet story, hmmm?

But when we got home, I bawled and bawled. And the next day. And the next day. It took till the 3rd day for some of the pain to subside. It's still too soon.

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).