Adjustments

It's been an odd week here at Feline Fine. Simultaeneously mourning an old pet, getting to know a new pet, trying to broker a feline relationship between new and current pet; there has been a lot of adjustment going around.

First, there's Merlin. His ashes are safely stashed in my closet, hidden from view but in a place he often liked to go. We still miss him and probably will for a long, long time.

Then there's Jasper. This little guy is a breath of fresh air. He is tiny with a loud, high-pitched meow. He is hysterical and loving. Now we just need to figure out how to break him of the very annoying habit of waking us up in the middle of the night with head butts in the face and wet licky kisses on the cheeks and lips. At least he's only given me a wet willy once (so far)!

Finally, there's Isabella. She was less than thrilled when we brought Jasper home. We had never heard her hiss until she saw the kitten. By Wednesday, they seemed to be getting along well enough to leave out all day and we were gratified that when we got home, all ears, eyes and noses were accounted for. Since then, the two of them have been getting along very well. Isabella has come around and has begun being her mushy self again. She greeted me at the door on Friday and ran out into the hall. She sat outside peeking in until she saw me comeing for her and then she took off down the hall. When I scooped her up, she dug her claws into my shirt, buried her head beneath my chin, and started purring like a banshee. And last night, she finally got on the bed again and snuggled with me for a few moments.

Finally. The new family dynamic is starting to gel.

Who's that little guy down there?

(Jasper is actually in the process of sliding off the chair rather than jumping on.)

(This is one, as is the first picture, of many of Jasper's impersonations of a Jawa, albeit a blue-eyed one!)

Laughter and Tears

On Monday, Jasper Bleu went in for his first vet appointment. He was a beast, albeit a little one, in the car. When we took Merlin in, we brought him in a hard-sided carry case. Teach couldn’t handle bringing the empty case home so we left it at the vet’s and asked them to find a use for it. We have not replaced the hard-sided case yet so all I had to take Jasper in was a soft sided case that was entirely to0 huge for him. He started wailing the minute I put him in – he has this high-pitched, squeaky-toy sounding meow, which gets more and more plaintive as time goes on. He wailed for almost the entire 20 minute drive to the vet’s. The only time he wasn’t crying was when he busted out of the case, like the alien bursting from Kane’s chest, and started climbing all over me. That was fun.

When the vet finally saw him she said he appeared healthy (yea!) and that she’s pretty sure he’s going to be a big cat. Turns out he’s not as little as I thought. He’s already 3 pounds at 2 months old. According to the vet, he shouldn’t be 3 pounds until he’s 4 months old. Plus, he has long legs. (Teach had considered the name “Thumper”, which I would have gone along with but he neglected to mention it to me during the day and a half the kitten had no name). His back legs are comical. When he’s hugging a toy and kicking at it with his hind paws, he has to be careful or he ends up boxing himself in the ears.

On Monday, I also picked up Merlin’s ashes. I figured, since I was there, I’d go ahead and get him, take him home, and put him someplace inconspicuous until I was able to get the ceramic cat urn I was able to get. Too bad it didn’t play out that way. I got the cremains (what a terrible word) and nearly started crying right there. They were in a nice paper bag with the animal cemetery’s logo on it and a label with my name and then “Pet name: Merlin”.

Sob.

On the way home, Jasper was unrelenting in his wailing. He really started to grate on my nerves and then, when I got home, I couldn’t figure out where to put Merlin. Jasper was crying, Teach was grilling me about the vet visit, and I was standing in the middle of the room, still wearing my coat, holding this little paper bag with Merlin’s ashes. I tried to put the bag in the closet where Teach couldn’t see it, but I couldn’t get the top of the bag to fold down, and I couldn’t get it to stay on the shelf and Jasper kept crying and Teach kept talking and finally I lost it. I ripped open the bag, took out this horrid floral tin box and just stood there heaving. Teach asked what was wrong and I somehow got out “I brought Merlin home.”

Teach took the box from me and sat down. I begged him not to open it but he told me he had to see. So he opened the box, this tiny, horrid floral tin box, and there, sealed in a baggy, were Merlin’s remains. Teach lost it; completely lost it. “Now you’re never coming home!” he cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I looked at him for a few moments, my tears drying almost instantly, because I can’t grieve when he grieves. My nurturing nature kicks in and any resemblance of personal feelings flee. Usually. This time, after stroking his head for a moment, I realize I can’t take it any more. I can’t take hearing him sob anymore. I can’t take feeling like this anymore. I can’t take realizing Merlin is Never. Coming. Home.

I grab the box, put the top back on and hug it to my chest. I start pacing and start repeating “Stop it, Teach. Stop it.” Over and over again until he finally stops. I take the bag, replace the horrid floral tin box and put everything in my closet, where Merlin always liked to go. Then I find Jasper (who was hiding from the loud noises) and gave him to Teach.

Not a replacement. Never a replacement. Just a small creature that needs Teach’s immediate attention. Jasper has accomplished what Van Gogh, Merlin and Isabella have been unable to do – pull Teach out of himself.

We mourn Merlin. We will always mourn Merlin. We talk about Merlin and how we will always mourn him. We talk about how if we think too much about him; the pain of not having him is almost unbearable.

Jasper will never replace Merlin. But Jasper is who Teach needs now – a small, loveable, furry creature that will snuggle in his lap and purr loudly, proclaiming to all that he’s found a home. And it is good.

Meet Jasper Bleu

2 months old, male. Teach is thrilled, Isabella - not so much.

Waves

On Thursday, I missed Merlin so much, I thought I was going to vomit. Isabella did something that reminded me that Merlin was gone. He wasn't under the bed or under the chair or in the other room. He was gone. He was just...gone.

I sobbed in the car later that evening when I went to the grocery store.

I finally started vacuuming again. I haven't vacuumed for weeks. First, I didn't want to disturb Merlin. Then, I didn't want to erase him. The entire time I was vacuuming under the bed I kept saying to myself "It's all right, he's not there. It's all right, he's not there."

I miss him. I have to go to the vet and pick up his ashes but I can't. Not yet. I miss my big boy.