We defaulted into writing, not the most prestigious or high-paying career path, because it was our way of sorting through life, especially the pain. Sometimes cliches work: Writing has been my life preserver. My cognitive behavior therapist for my 2003 meltdown demanded I write about it. That I did Download Geezerguts. Ten years later, here I am still on the right side of the grass.
My 19 year old cat Jason will soon be on the wrong side of the grass. But I can write about it. Yesterday he stopped eating. Today he stayed on my stomach on the couch only minutes, then went off to hide under the bed. There's that distinct odor of inner decay coming from him. Three months ago I had brought him the vet. He rallied. The rally seems over.
Jason pushed his way into my life. I was at the Monmouth County Humane Society, New Jersey on an Adoption Day. He walked, with a tentative stride, up to me. He stole my heart. At home he bonded with Carlotta who had been found pregnant on the mean streets of Manhattan. When she had to be put down February 2011, I figured Jason would die of grief. Instead he relished having me to himself.
Too soon neither of us will have each other.
UPDATE: A rally. Jason emerged from hiding to sit on my stomach. It wasn't for long. Then he relaxed on the sofa. Now, if he will only take a few bits of Fancy Feast.