Monday, May 24, 2010

Smoky The Cat

How do you say the last four months sucked without really saying they sucked?  My mom does not like me saying that word. So let’s start again, the last four months blew they really blew.  Okay, she wouldn’t like that either. Let’s just say it has been a deep dark winter, one that I will measure all deep dark winters of the future against and hopefully none will compare. Life being what it is—I am sure other winters will outdo this one, but let’s hope for the best.

The first thing that happened was during a warm spell in January our hairless cat, Smoky, disappeared. (Right after I put up his picture of the week on the blog—ironic!) We searched and searched. He being hairless makes him unfit for the out of doors, but we hoped because it wasn’t freezing at night that he would be okay. He had spent two other nights outside and had fared okay. Anyway, we canvassed the neighborhood, put up flyers, called shelters, put him on and still no Smoky.  As it became a cold and snowy January again, I began to hope that he was stolen, at least he would be safe.
                                                     (Smoky tired from reading)

I just need to get something straight. I am not a pet person. I find them like someone else’s toddlers, cute but annoying.  Smoky of all the pets I've had was the most annoying. He was always trying to sneak outside! He would dash in front of you down the stairs, like he was trying to trip you. Because he was a grey hairless cat he had grey oil that he secreted that would make anything he sat upon slightly dingy (I had to wash whatever he slept on). He constantly pestered the cats downstairs. The lack of hair also made him an anatomical lesson to all my children.  He walked on any keyboard you happened to be typing on.  Because of his lack of hair he loved burrowing into blankets. We have all sat, laid and stepped on him. He was always under foot.

Despite all of that and probably because of it—I loved Smoky. He loved me too. His skin was like warm suede and he had a great purr. He was so ugly you couldn’t stop looking at him. As soon as I realized he was more than missing I couldn’t talk about him without crying for months. We did finally find Smoky and he had passed away outside. This has been the first time I even felt like I could write about him, being the weird cat lady I have become.  Enough about the cat!

(Smoky gnawing on a rib bone)

Harder things have happened this winter and spring, but for some reason it’s easier to write about the cat.