One Month...and on...

The one-month date has come and gone, and Chesney is still gone/vanished. People around me try to console and say that he probably got picked up by someone who fell in love with him etc etc. I try not to dwell on the darker possibilities, but they are there, and always will be unless I find out for sure, and it doesn't look like I will. I wonder why fate would have sent me this gift, to console me for the sudden untimely loss of Timmy last fall, only to take Chesney the same way - suddenly? Cruel. A shadow has been cast over this spring and summer season.

But life goes on (*sigh* - I sometimes hate that silly, trite expression), and I have others than need my care and love. I also have an enormous garden, and lots to plant as I write, and some days it seems like a looming chore rather than a pleasure. But I love the cats and the plants too much to let any be ignored, so on I go.






This piece of salvage was intended for my various gardening pots and accessories, but as you can see, the fluffy ones, Manitou and Mr. Poole, think it really serves a much better purpose. In the third picture, Manitou seems to be thinking: "hmm, this place needs a paint job!" (Is anyone listening? IT DOES!!) Mr. Poole looks like he's thinking: "Hey, no one told me these were bunk-beds!"




Tristan reposes and recovers near the warmth of the brick border. He was recently diagnosed with an abscess on his back. Not the worst we have ever seen, but still nasty business: squeezing, draining etc...but he took it all very well indeed. Next to him is my latest purchase for the garden: a lovely garden wagon: it is very handy and attractive too!


Regular visitor, sometimes called "Mooch", Rascal relaxes on the cedar bench.




And last but not least, New solarium furniture! Here we see Angel and Longfellow obviously approving of the long-awaited purchase. The day the set arrived, Angel was the first to hop onto the the couch and sprawl at full length, so elegant her black against the vivid red. The old white wicker set had been with us since the house purchase in 1994, and was quite worn. It was not shabby chic anymore, just shabby!

Thank you to everyone who sent me their good thoughts for Chesney - I really, really appreciate it. Maybe we can keep it up for a little longer?

3 Weeks....

Last night I dreamed my house fell into a shallow sink-hole (this actually happened to a family in Quebec - they were in the basement watching a hockey game, when the ground opened up and swallowed them: mother, father, and 2 children). My house was in ruins, and people were taking all my clothes. I was searching for my cats...and waking up, exhausted, as usual my first thought is that Chesney is still missing.

Am I waiting for him to return, or is this just the beginning of forever gone?

A Week: Heartbroken

Sometimes I am stunned by the lunacy of this world and its inhabitants: in one image we see the dying and dead wildlife produced by the gulf oil hemorrhage (spill is NOT the word most people are using) and in another, the mad frenzy created by the release of the ipad. More and more everything seems disjoint - illogical - and incoherent. Amid all of this there is no good news. Chesney is gone, and I am heartbroken. I have always said that not knowing is the worst - not knowing where he is now, how is is - if he is...is he suffering...

But that is just a little gray cat in a world full of unending misery, pain and bigger tragedies. Just a little gray cat.

And as I can often do, I thoughtlessly blame those close to me for not caring as much, or not grieving as they should. But of course, what can they say? Life goes on. How timely, then, that the following quote appeared in today's local newspaper:

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."

~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

Chesney is Missing

Our Chesney has been missing since Saturday morning - anyone who has been through this knows how I feel. Please send prayers our way - a big storm is coming and I am out of my mind with worry he is hurt, hungry, thirsty....

Chesney

In these shots, you can see the rings around his neck and tail that indicate a definite tabby "influence".


Chesney (who for a month was called Chelsea until we were informed otherwise (!) - the little guy that appeared lost and alone on Labour Day, has turned out to be a little sweetheart. Although quite independent as well, he loves to snuggle on my lap (on the rare time that it is actually unoccupied!), and in the basket close to my armchair where I watch television.
But perhaps the most endearing this he does occurs at bedtime. He will often come on the bed, approach from behind my head on the pillow, and tuck his front paws down under the covers and onto my (usually very warm) arm. As I feel his cold little pads on my skin, I briefly feel sad that he was abandoned, and without claws to defend himself. But, I try to focus on, and thank, whatever invisible hand lead him to my porch.

He and Chaiyka, both very young, are often a tireless, tumbling twosome! When cavorting upstairs in the bedroom which is situated above the living room where we watch TV, it sounds like a couple of elephants frolicking overhead. They are so much fun to watch, and I would dearly love to have a photo of them in action, but they're just too fast to catch!

More frolicking and other activities can be seen atThe Friday Ark and then Carnival of the Cats on Sunday.

Reflections on the Holiday

Things bright and beautiful...

Exhausted from all the activity....Manitou does his famous Snoopy imitation...

Chaiyka searches for just the right magazine....

Some preferred to sunbathe....




There was boxing day, always lots of fun....

"Whadya get???!" Asks Manitou.

Above all, there was lots of lounging...


Snoozing...

And still more snoozing...

At home by the tree,

While the snow deepened outside...


.

Yes indeed, a good and restful time was had by all.
Welcome 2010, and best wishes to all who continue to touch and bless my life in various ways.

Youngsters!

Ah - the young ones - carefree and playful - and always a joy to watch! Here Chaiyka (I often call him Chai-Chai) pretends to be asleep, while Chesney (Little Ches) has a feeling something is up,

A paw finally appears, and they're off!

This little game lasted a while - they can get pretty rambunctious, and even rough, but they are both declawed (NOT by me - they came to me this way), so no serious damage is done. I am pretty sure it's mostly youthful exuberance!

A Photograph for Friday

It was the morning of the 28th, the day that our Tim would leave us. I was at home sick for the 2nd day, and I would develop what seemed a very bad fever later that night - after his passing. I think the extreme emotion of the day, and all that had led up to it, made everything worse. But that morning, on his last day, I awoke to see Timmy asleep on the window seat, his breathing still heavy and laboured. He seemed larger than he was, and when I cleared my eyes a bit, I saw that tiny Chesney was snuggled by his side. I knew if I'd move, to get the camera, Chesney would awake and follow me, as kittens do. So, I just looked on this scene for awhile - it is a photo now etched in my memory only: Timmy and the little "Tim-Bit".