Sunday, December 5, 2021

Dinner for One

I will publish a memorial post to Tucker soon; it takes a while to sift through more than a decade of memories, most of them very good. I also intend to thank each and all those whose kind condolences were left on my blog; that may take a while, too.

In the meantime, Tucker’s absence, of only a day, has been deeply felt. Foremost so far, was his absence at dinner last evening. Every time I began to prepare a meal, the roly poly would come out to see what was on the menu, and generally keep me company. When the food was ready, he would already be in his place, on one of the cushioned chairs at the table. He would sit up, confident in the hope – always fulfilled – of having a bit from my dish. Even when he was sick, he would totter out and slowly climb to his spot.

Last night, no one came to join me. The other beasts were, as they always were at that time, snoozing, having had their dinner an hour or so before. There was no conversation that usually brightened the event, nobody to whom to offer food. For the first time in more than a decade, I ate all of my food myself. That evening, it seemed just a morsel or two too much.

23 comments:

  1. Eating without company can be a lonesome affair. You'll think of Tucker every evening meal. These long time habits are memorable.

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  2. Aww...that's so sad😿 So sorry of the loss of your sweet Tucker. Fly free beautiful Soul✨
    Soft Pawkisses to comfort you🐾😽💞

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  3. i wood still put da dish owt, hiz spirit will still be there

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  4. That's a sad and lonely dinner. 😢

    I hope that in time there will be only good memories for a dinner "companion."
    ❤️

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  5. Cats may be small, compared to human-sizes, but they leave a big hole when they aren't there.
    Hugs and purrs.

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  6. Oh John, I'm so sorry. I know how difficult it is, those first few days, to look for the one we've lost in the familiar places. There is a jolt of recognition that we won't see them here again.

    You and Tucker are in my thoughts.

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  7. Oh John, I think all of us who read your blog know and understand just how you feel, and we share your grief. After all, unfortunately we've all
    "been there". Right now you have a big hole in your heart, but as long as Tucker is remembered, he will never really be gone. You loved him very much and gave him the best care possible, and he loved you. He will never be forgotten. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.


    .



    '

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  8. Tucker will always come to mind. I think, always. All that were special to us stay with us in our minds and heart. That is an old saying and whoever fashioned it was so right. I still talk to Admiral...I think I always will. If I am passing by where she is...I always say Good Morning, just as I do to Katie. And I say Good night to her and tell her I miss her so much.

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  9. Tucker was the best dinner companion. Sending hugs and purrs.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you for kindness at this time. Tucker really was a marvellous companion; he was my friend.

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  10. Damn it - my mum keeps leaking. Poppyq

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  11. There was a song, popular after the Civil War : "We shall meet, but we shall miss him. There will be one vacant chair..."

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    1. I remember that from a show on TV...I was liking it so much I looked it up. I'm glad you posted it.

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    2. Just before the Second World War, there was an advertising campaign in British magazines for Burton Ale, in which a group of men would be pictured with someone obviously absent (eg. an empty chair among otherwise filled places). The caption would read ‘Gone for a Burton’. During the Battle of Britain, RAF air crew would refer to a killed comrade as ‘gone for a Burton’, especially since many ended up in the sea, which was called ‘the drink’. It was easier than saying that a friend was dead or missing, probably killed. Maybe I can think of Tucker as ‘gone for a Burton’; I’ll see him again at closing-time.

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  12. The empty chair is so sad, but will always be known as Tucker's chair.

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  13. I’m so sorry, John. I know what a lonely feeling it is when you fall into a certain routine with a cat, and then, one day, they’re not around to join in with you. I’m sure Tucker was by the table with you in spirit, though.

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  14. Yes, those new not-so-normal normals just suck.

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  15. Aww, man. Those first time things are always the hardest. We are so sorry, John.

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  16. I feel your pain, John. It's so very hard to lose one of our fur family and like the others said, a hole in our heart. Please keep Tucker's chair as it was. You can always pretend he's there even though in spirit. That helped me get through losing my Lucy. I'll end this here since I'm in need of kleenex once again for my tears.

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  17. dood.....we who normull lee haz ...werdz......canna ...find werdz ~~~~~ thiz iz heart breaking~~~~~♥♥♥

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  18. Tucker's Chair...now a most treasured memory and an important place to sit on and think only of Tucker and all he was and did...
    It is so very hard, you see a place and expect to see the kitty that owned it...and you miss the sweet companionship as well...

    Sending love and hugs of comfort at this difficult time. ♥

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