Pax Nortona – A Blog by Joel Sax
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Wrought and Wrecked by Grief
Posted on December 23, 2002 in Cats Grief Photos
I’ve cried on and off today. Sometimes I spy a pair of ears at the foot of the bed. Was it a bad dream? Is he with me? It turns out to be Tracy, asleep.
Ambrose made me feel loved at times when I felt very unloveable. “Doctor Ambrose” was one of the nicknames I’d given him, because he knew when I was especially sad and he’d come to the bedroom, shove his head in my face, and purr the loudest purr I’ve ever heard.
He was my friend and confidant. I invented a voice which seemed to fit him and let the voice tell me stories. “You know, Daddies,” he’d say in a little routine I’d developed recently. “The mouses around here are very lazy. They won’t climb the stairs.”
True, he annoyed me sometimes. When his litterbox was not up to standard, he’d mark my clothes until I nagged Lynn into doing her assigned chore or did it myself. Now and then, he’d bite Tracy in the neck. I’d cry “Peaceable Kingdom! Peaceable Kingdom guys! We want the Peaceable Kingdom here!” And he’d stop, either leaving the room in a huff or, if it was especially cold, set himself down next to our eldest feline.
When I was especially peeved, I’d shout “You little asshole!” And he’d flop on his side, blink his eyes at me, and say mind to mind “That’s OK, Daddys. You cans calls mes ans assholeses. Just remembers: I’m your little asshole.”
Sometimes I was the asshole of the house. He’d recommend after I’d argued with or shouted at Lynn: “I thinks yous shoulds apologizes to Mamas. She loveses us, you knows.”
His “advice” in the times when I felt hated by the world helped kept me going. He’d start his purrs and pawing of my arm, press himself against me or sit on my chest, especially if I had a book or a laptop. I’d weep: “I don’t deserve this!” And he’d say “Daddies, its nots abouts deservingses. It’s abouts lovingses.”
Yes, my little boy, you speak the truth. But how can I enjoy your ability to love now that they have given you what they euphemize as the mercy drug and reduced you to ashes? When that packet arrives, I shall weep again and make mud of your bones, like the splatters you used to lick off when you jumped into the potted plants after I watered them.
