Lost, quiet

I haven’t felt much like writing lately. I’ve lost someone very dear to me: our cat Gwen. She was around 17 or 18 years old when we had her put to sleep last Monday. Gwen had developed health problems over the past couple of years, but we’d been managing OK with medication. But with the return of bad dental problems and her kidneys shutting down, we didn’t think there was anything good left for her in this life.

We got Gwen when I was around 21 or 22; when our friend Jeannette moved in with us back in Natchitoches, Gwen and another cat (fella named Arthur) moved in with us. Her presence is one of the best things Jeannette contributed to my life, and that’s quite a list. Gwen was well-behaved, usually sweet, and most of all SMART. She was far and away the smartest pet I’ve ever had, and would sometimes complain if whatever we were watching didn’t have enough animals. Gwen was with me for pretty much my entire adult life up to this point, and THAT’S the big sorrowful “gotcha” I wasn’t expecting. I’ve got to keep going on without her sweet kitty presence, and it’s turning out to be harder than I thought.

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2 thoughts on “Lost, quiet

  1. Raven says:

    Oh…

    *sad face*

    Hmm… I got her at a pet store in Virginia when she was about 6 weeks old and that was in… early/mid 1991. So she was almost 18.

    Arthur was from that grey cat, Morgan’s, first litter.

    Gwen used to answer the phone in our apartment in Virginia, for about a week. She never took messages, though. Just sniffed at the voice coming out of the headset.

  2. Kaye-Kaye says:

    My poor, poor Joey! I’m glad to have been there for you and Suri at Gwen’s final cat nap.

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