Darling Cori-Cat

At 5:30pm on Sunday March 30, 2008, my darling Cori-cat went to sleep.

I realize more about my relationship with her now- now, while I'm mourning with my cheeks all burned with saltwater and my body feels thick and heavy. I am grieving the loss of my friend.

Pets are your silent partners in crime. They live in your home and see all the secret behavior that you would never share with someone who spoke. They are there for every major event of your life. You forget, sometimes, when you get that call that lets you know that a loved one is sick that your cat was sitting next to you. Or that when you came home crying from a horrid breakup that your cat slept next to you on the pillow. You forget because they are ALWAYS there.

Until they aren't there anymore.

Then you notice it a lot.

I brought Cori-Cat home with me when I was drunk at college. She was an itty-bitty orange kitten with HUGE eyes. Who could resist her? Not I! College housing be damned- that was my cat.

I'd never had a cat before, so getting to know her was challenging. She had been a farm cat, so she was sick when I got her. I remember her somehow finding a way up onto the top bunk where she would sleep next to my head. She would purr and purr and purr until she would take a deep breath and sigh- her "I'm asleep" noise. Then I would fall asleep too.

She was there through several bad boyfriends/breakups. Then she sat in my lap when I called my mom to tell her that a boy said he loved me. I kissed her goodbye when I left to go to the church to get married, and I ran to see her when I got back from my honeymoon. She moved across country with me. She laid next to me through a wicked depression. She sat on the piano when I wrote my first song. I asked her to wish me luck when I left the house to play my first gig. When my marriage started to fall apart and I was crying a lot she actually started crawling under the covers to sleep next to me- which she had never done before. She laid right on top of my head the first night I slept in my new apartment after I left my husband. She watched me struggle to support myself, work my way up the ladder, and finally get my dream day-job. She got wet food on major holidays and wore a bow for Christmas. She would always try to climb on the piano when I played, and HATED when I sang.

I shared my whole life with this cat- this silent friend who slept in my bed, and ate my food, and listened to every private phone conversation.

She LOVED water. Loved it. Couldn't get enough of it. She was soaking wet about 75% of the time. She would knock over your drink in a second if you didn't have your hand on it. She would grab food off of your plate if you weren't looking. She attempted to wake me up before my alarm every single day. She would push me off of my pillow while I was sleeping so she could have it to herself. She would lay directly on whatever I was working on. She would push every limit, every rule, and every line to the point of driving you nuts. She never got enough scratching, petting or kisses. If you walked in the apartment you belonged to her- no questions asked- you were her new favorite and you had to pay homage to her immediately. If you weren't paying attention to her she was climbing on you, licking you, biting you, or trying to trip you. She drove me NUTS.

And I adored her.

When the vet said she was too far gone... I held her in my arms, and I remembered bringing that little kitten home in the middle of the night. And the roller coaster that we'd been through. And my God- how do you say good bye to that?

We buried her and L & E's house.

I've been having a hard time sleeping- I keep thinking I hear her purring and I wake up.

--k

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