dulcetly...notes on a bookish life

 

It's been a rather awful week, the sort I wish I could erase from my life like pressing a delete button,  a week that started with various technological malfunctions, poor weather, the dregs of a cold and ended with a sick and dying kitty.

 My oldest,  Sophie, who was 15, suffered a stroke and died yesterday, and though she's the second pet I've lost on my own (there were others as a child, but they were family animals and seemed less jarring personally) it's still weird in this vacuum.  She's pretty much the only kitteh that's been with me since I moved into this apartment, and unlike my old cat Chelsea, who died in 2004 after various health issues, Sophie was in prime, plucky, condition one day and going steadily downhill the next.  I can't say that animals have some sort of esp on these things, but she'd been especially affectionate and needy the past week, constantly on my desk next to the laptop  and on the pillow next to my head, even moreso than usual, which was a lot.

But it's inevitable I suppose, losing things, and of course, I don't handle it well.  My parents, thank god, came in to get her to bury her in the family plot of dead pets , the side garden that houses various childhood cats, a cockatiel, some finches, one dog, a few hamsters, and at least one large goldfish. While I can't say she was a favorite among the other cats and that they'd miss her (she was usually pretty cranky and slap happy with Giles and the gingers), they've all been behaving oddly, Zoe following me meowing from room to room and Max sort of skittish which he usually isn't at all.

I've been struggling to keep my mind busy with other things, playing with the others, watching bad tv shows, ordering a new swimsuit for my trip, and in general wrapping things up before I head out of town next Sunday.  I hope to get my new printer installed, my work computer back online, and my taxes filed tomorrow.  Onward, I guess, is the only direction to go...