Blogging every day in May is a lofty goal, which I may or may not achieve. Who cares — the fun is in the attempt and my blog has been neglected for way too long. Be warned though — I might break the rules.
► Today’s prompt (found at The Story of My Life) is the story of my life in 250 words.
Minty was the first cat I can remember from my childhood. She was mostly deaf as is often the case with white cats. I can’t remember why my mother had her put down. I can remember that it took almost a week for my brother and me to notice.
Blackie was my mother’s cat. From when she was a kitten, Blackie used to lay across my mother’s shoulders while she washed the dishes. Blackie got hit by a car. ‘She was too trusting,’ my mother said.
Jack and I only went to the animal shelter to look. It was before we were married. We came home with Rex — abandoned because he was too aggressive. Rex was never aggressive with us. His ears used to prick up when he heard a baby cry. Rex got killed by a car when our marriage was less than a year old. I cried so much I couldn’t go to work for two days.
Misty, Pumpkin and Guido came and went throughout our marriage. Misty got re-homed when we moved cities, Pumpkin went to live on a farm and Guido grew so old and sick we had him put down.
Izzy, the last cat, ended up leaving us. One day she just never came home. It was a few weeks before I moved out. Perhaps she knew what was coming…
I miss having a furry ball of love sitting on my lap during the cold winter months and snaking through my legs first thing in the morning. But I know taking on a cat means that one day it will die or leave.
And I’m not ready for any more of that.