It’s been a week since I’ve had to say goodbye to her. Just when I think it might be a bit easier something always pulls me back. I’m going to miss her with all my heart.
But I’ve sent to off to my dad.
I know that my dad didn’t like cats, I think now it was because he was a little scared of them, but I’ve decided that Weatherwax is going to stay with him anyway.
When Dad was still alive he told me that he had a cabin near a lake and would mentally go there when he was down or things got crappy and it always made him feel better. He told me that he had been imagining this place for years and over time other people began to build their own cabins in the area too so that he was never completely isolated. They would greet each other with a nod or brief “hello” but everyone pretty much kept to themselves. Dad also had a bell, a dinner bell I guess, on the porch’s post and this existed incase of emergencies – if ever he needed someone, he could just ring the bell and his neighbours would come. Now that he’s died, I imagine him there, happy, fishing everyday and he’s never had to ring that bell. This is where I want Weatherwax to go.
I think he’ll accept her, I mean, they were both pretty grouchy and people never really “got” either of them. Both are pretty infamous amongst certain people and have even put the fear of death in a few. My dad had a bit of an appreciation for misfits though, being one himself, so I really think this could work…
I picture Weatherwax showing up on his doorstep, probably even ringing the bell on the porch. I DID keep a bell on my back door here that she would ring to get let out so wouldn’t it make sense that she would do the same there? I imagine him opening his door, not seeing anyone at eye level, and then he’ll hear a “meep” (Weatherwax didn’t really meow when she was healthy but made a high-pitched “ee, ee” sound). He’ll look down and see this beautiful black cat with large gorgeous green/yellow eyes looking up at him, and he’ll say under his breath, “Aw Christ, Beans this is your god-damned cat, isn’t it?” and she’ll just sit there staring at him but her ears will flatten ever so slightly.
“Well, you’re sure as hell NOT staying here”, Dad will say as he leaves the door open and walks over to the cupboard to pull down a couple bowls and Weatherwax will follow behind.
He’ll let Weatherwax stay I’m betting, but it will be an interesting relationship. He’ll grumble, call her a god-damned cat and she’ll attack his ankles as he’s trying to leave with his fishing rod in the morning, making him trip a bit but they’ll still love each other. They will see through each other’s exteriors. At night My Girl will jump up on the bed to sleep under the blankets on my dad’s chest. The place that had been so wounded when he was alive. And during the day he’ll give her treats from his day’s catch, which she may or may not eat, but he’ll find something else that she likes to fill the now plump tummy that became so skinny when she was alive. (Chicken’s a good idea Dad.)