The Fine Line

What a weekend. JB was riding on a high from the introduction of my logo. I, of course, acted like I could care less. But, I kept wondering how many humans were seeing it. I mean, maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally, finally be a Kardashian Kat! (Shh! JB doesn’t want anyone to know, but she watches that silly show sometimes. She knows how to “Keep Up With” them…and unfortunately, by virtue of being in the same room, so do I.)

All was going great until JB got a phone call.

I think she got some bad news. I’m not sure, but she seemed distressed. Whatever she was told in that call, made her very sad.

I think somebody died. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I know it makes humans sad.

She didn’t talk to me much about it. She just went to bed right after that phone call, and I just tried to keep purring beside her. I think that calms her down some.

I listened to her today while she was talking (she doesn’t think I know what she’s saying, but when I want to listen, I do) and I understood. Someone she cared about decided it was time to leave, as in leave for good.

So they left, on their own terms.

It’s not the first time someone has left this way that she cares about. The last time, she cried for a long time.

I wish I could tell her what I see…that there’s a fine line between here and there and sometimes you just can’t stay here any longer because being there is where you want to be. So you go.

As a cat, I know these things because I’m kinda on both sides – the there and here. See, I’ve got wings, really. They’re invisible here but when I return to there, they’ll go with me and everybody can see them.

Humans talk about angels; believing and feeling their presence. I wish they’d understand my meows because I tell them every day to just look, look at me! I’m one of them.

RIP Cousin Floyd. You’ve got your wings now too.

Signed,

The HC

12540523_10208419257822712_2074745937927982746_n.jpg

Floyd, who passed away Saturday, February 20, with his 102 aunt, my Grandma, chatting on her birthday in January. He brought her a cabbage head, fresh from his garden. Rare for January, just like him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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