Let's recap: Monday afternoon about 5:00 life was hunky dory as far as I knew. Until I got home to the flooded kitchen with soaked carpets in the den and living room.
Tuesday morning -- rear-ended on the way to work.
Wednesday morning -- Samantha died.
Thursday afternoon -- I started painting the living room and I should be finished on Saturday.
Friday -- my first full day back at work since Tuesday. And I'm so sore from 3 hours of stretching and squatting while painting. Honestly, I can barely get in and out of the car, and just touching any square inch of my body brings pain. How can anyone be so out of shape?
I've been thinking a lot about Samantha. I miss her and I can hardly believe it was Monday morning when she was on the kitchen table reaching over the top of the newspaper to try and pull it down so she could have more of my attention. I miss seeing that paw although it annoyed me when she'd do it.
One thing I don't miss is her pissing habit. She would often pee over the edge of the litter box even though she was standing in it. I noticed today how much easier it was to clean. It's also a LOT quieter in this house because she was so vocal and probably the loudest cat I've ever heard in my life. And when she was near either of us, she would start purring like a jet engine. Again, the loudest purring cat I've ever heard.
I will miss her standing on me while I'm trying to take a nap this weekend. I think she looked forward to the weekends because she knew at some point I'd get on the bed and she'd join me, walking back and forth across me until she found her spot. She would get in my face, as if to smell my lips to try and determine what I'd had for lunch. I could always see my own reflection in her eyes because she was so in my face.
She did more than love me. She absolutely adored me and I kind of miss being adored. She had the most beautiful blue eyes and I used to joke when talking with txrad that she got "her daddy's eyes."
I'm not sure why, when I was burying her, I tried to blind myself to what I was doing. I would not look at her. I was seeing her obviously, because I had to place her in the hole and cover her with dirt. But I was only seeing her form, and not really looking at her. For me, that's the most painful experience. Taking someone I have loved for 11 years and covering them with dirt. But that's the way life is.
I know at some point I'll have a sobbing breakdown. I hope not, and if I can get past the next few days, I may get lucky.
But there is definitely a void in this house, even with the two remaining indoor cats.
There will be no official Friday Pussy Blog this week. I think I had that covered already.