I have loved one cat and one woman in the same way. Another woman, I love in a slightly different way: a version of father/daughter. That is the sum total of the recipients of my love. I know this is personal, but isn’t it important to discuss it? Isn’t it entirely normal and natural? We shouldn’t shy away from these experiences and emotions because they are so much more meaningful than most of the other cat information on the internet. In any event, for me, this is historical. In computer terms, the events are in the archives.
These experiences are the real bits of our lives. So much of it is superficial. Anyway, I want to briefly write about Missie again and the woman I loved.
Have you loved a cat more than a person? Or the other way around? This is a tricky question.
For me, my love for Missie is equal to my love for Susan. It is a different kind of love. My love for my cat, who died almost 20 years ago, is the love of a father for the daughter he never had, and that is not anthropomorphizing my cat. I loved her as a cat companion. My love for Susan, a past girlfriend, is just pure human to human love.
I have not seen Susan for 40 years. I don’t have a photograph of her anymore. Susan, if you are out there, please leave a comment. You won’t. You might not be alive. If the rainbow bridge exists I hope I can meet my cat again.
I am very pragmatic about this. I believe it is an important but difficult subject but I am very practical about the whole thing. I have no expectations.
Above is a large format picture – a copy of a print – of Missie. She was a moggie with some Norwegian Forest Cat in her. Nothing special, generally, but special to me, personally. We were very close. She would sleep next to me, on my arm, sometimes. That is a picture that I keep safe in my mind. I also have a mental picture of her running from the back of the garden to me in the kitchen when I called on my return from work. So sad.
My love for her is absolutely pure and it is exactly as it was 20 years ago.
She is sweet looking, isn’t she? She was extremely athletic and courageous; actually fearless. Perhaps that contributed to her death on a road. I remember her in a special way.
As for Susan, we met at the Regent Street Polytechnic, Regent Street, London, in the first years of 1970. This was right at the center of London. I won’t say more.
Caroline I’ve just seen your comment and the above one that says you have lost Shrimpie, I’m so very sad for you and sending you love and the strength to cope. How old was he? It’s particularly awful for you that he died when in the vets for a routine teeth cleaning. There is nothing I can say to help you, only time will dull the pain of grief a bit. What a shock that phone call must have been.
We lost Jozef 2 years ago and Walter just 8 months ago and we are still heartbroken, it’s just awful that cats lives are so short in comparison with ours. You can just go day to day and cry when you need to, you loved Shrimpie so much, as we did our boyz, the house feels empty and at present we are unable to bring any more cats here, so for the first time in 44 years we have no cats sharing our home. Take care and know what all the cat lovers here will fully sympathise with your loss xx
Ruth, I don’t know how to cope without Shrimpie,i don’t know to6.
Michael, I don’t know if he still exists ? But I do know that Shrimp was as important to me as my daughter, Madeline. She understands that. Her rabbits, “bunnies,” are just as important. I respect every single species on our Mother Earth. Shrimpie had a favorite baby opossum that would come up our apt. stairs and kiss em. That was Shrimp. Juvenile possum came up few hrs ago, and only I was there. I m missing him; my Shrimp.
Shrimptaro just died of a heart attack Tuesday, two wks ago. I’m not able to cope as I left him alone to get his teeth cleaned, possibly pulled under anesthesia. Please tell those who are shy, Do Not ever, ever ever leave your beloved companion/child/buddy/best friend at the veterinarian’s office alone. He died of a heart attack, Michael. She called me. Fifteen minutes after I left him there. After getting on hands and knees to talk like I do to him. I cannot say anything moeright now. So make sure that newcomers know. Never, ever lv your cat alone in a strange environment such as the veterinarian’s. Stay with her or him. The veterinarian, if they’re good, will let you. Just ask. Be assertive, as if your cat was your best friend or your child.
Missie is beautiful. If you mind me touching her, I can feel that belly’s softness. Norwegian forest cat, Turkish van, Angora. They all have that same quality about their bellies and chin, and ruff. i know too from the loves of my life. Binnie does look conflicted in that photo. I wish that you would repost these photos, at least of Missie, Michael.
Marc, just want you to know that so often I stumble on words, unlike you. But I truly appreciate what you just said.
I wasn’t looking to end up with a red tabby male. I was at my co-worker’s farm to get another tuxedo kitten from the same mother as my Panda’s. Luna’s brother was an emaciated red tabby who was about to die. The woman said, “if you don’t take him, he’ll die.” He, Shrimp, and Luna his sister escorted me home wrapped in my long wool coat, in my old pickup. He went to the vet immediately that morning. We waited and waited, but they were too busy to make time for my tiny kitten. The Emergency Vet Clinic saw him that evening, and he is a robust, but shy, four-yr old. He still rarely talks to me, even though his vocal cords came back. We were so used to just speaking knowingly with our eyes (shutting them/opening them), nods, smiles. He smiles right back. I’m so sorry for Red’s passing to another dimension.
I never guessed that I would one day fall head over heels in love with a red tabby, and I feel so very fortunate!