The Cosy Apartment’s library was Minuet’s ‘safe-room’. Most cats who are integrated with the household leave the library and explore, then settle in with the rest of the population and find their spots around the apartment. Min never did. She would go on short journeys now and then, but she never remained out for long. I wish she had, but that was her choice. After the jarring change from her home of sixteen years to this foreign environment, she had a right to stay where she was comfortable. She had her food and water, her litter-boxes, her comfy spots, and a window, if she chose to view the wider world.
For the past seven months, I would glance into the library every time I passed its doorway. Sometimes Min would be sleeping, sometimes she would be awake and look up when I passed, or give a little ‘maow’ at me. When she did, I would enter and spend at least a minute or two with her. Since she was deaf, I didn’t want her to think that the sounds she made weren’t being heard.
Now, as I pass the library, I keep looking in. Only her teal-coloured blanket and a litter-box have been removed, yet the room looks much more spacious, as if something grand was missing. Something grand is missing.
I will be contacting everyone who has been kind enough to leave a comment about Minuet’s death, and thanking them; it may be on their blog, if they have one, or it may be as a response following their published comment on this blog. In any case, I am gratified that Madame was known by so many, and that so many appreciated her presence on Earth.
Singling anyone out is invidious, I know, but I must thank Ingrid of Meezer's Mews & Terrieristical Woofs, and Ann of Zoolatry, for their beautiful artwork and their time and effort in creating the badges that will now have their places of honour on my sidebar, where they in turn will honour Minuet, and the others who have gone on ahead.
They sure do leave an empty space in the home and in the heart. XOReplyDelete
Something grand is missing, something sweet and grand.ReplyDelete
I love this comment.Delete
What a lovely post. It's so hard when we lose a beloved cat. You keep expecting see them in their favorite places. I know Min's loss has left a hole in your heart. But please know that your readers feel your pain and our thoughts are with you.ReplyDelete
As is sometimes said, the silence is deafening as you go into a room or home that once had a beloved presence in it.. The emptiness is all encompassing when you are missing and grieving a beloved cat.ReplyDelete
Yes, the empty feelings seem to be so THERE, and its such an awful silence, in your heart and in real life, too.ReplyDelete
It takes ages to even come to grips to their not being there when our beloved fur babies leave us forever...all the more so when we've been very involved with them with health issues and special needs, etc.
I hope my little 'gifts' help to put some kind of covering over the hurt and hole left in your heart.
I'm sure it will take some time before you pass by the library and not look for Min. She left her pawprints on your heart.ReplyDelete
It's amazing how empty a room or house can feel.ReplyDelete
For being a small creature, cats take such a huge space in out lives, hearts and homes.ReplyDelete
I understand completely that every time you walk by the library you will look for Minuet. She was a lovely kitty that you were able to give Comfort to for these past 7 months. I hope that brings some comfort to you.ReplyDelete
So sadly true, and it is a two way street. When my husband passed away, his beloved kitty, they shared such a bond ~ sat by his now unused office chair, lay upon his desk ~ for many, many weeks. Grief is real on both sides.ReplyDelete
I agree...something grand is missing and is missed.ReplyDelete
Big purrs as you remember sweet Minuet. She will always be with you
as she has a place in your heart.
Purrs, Julie and "mum"
All the graphics are lovely, John, a bittersweet acknowledgement of Minuet's passing.ReplyDelete
Your library will seem empty for a time, though I suspect it will be filled soon enough.
Purrs and peace.
Small in size, but large in purrsonality and heart.ReplyDelete
Hugs and purrs.
I remember so well the morning we took Abby over to the vet after she had passed the late the night before, how utterly surreal it was to walk back in the door and not see her waiting for me. For several weeks actually having to unlearn the morning patterns of fixing her special foods each day was only a reminder she wasn't coming home. So I understand that when you look in the library and your eye falls to where you knew she was and now not to find her there, is a hard place to land. Even knowing how you gave her grace and comfort and love right now is not enough for the breaks in the heart. But one day, I know you'll find more to be so grateful for in giving her the dignity and care she needed in her final months. She was loved by so many and she will be missed.ReplyDelete
When many people reach an advanced age, they are happiest with their own space, where they can find tranquility. I think that was the case with Minuet. She had her own little room, where she knew she was safe and comfortable, and had no desire to explore any more of her world. That's such a blessing she had that refuge in her last days. And the artwork is beautiful.ReplyDelete
I am so sorry for your loss. ~hugs~ Thank you for providing such a loving home. You need not visit me, as I only just found you through Eastside Cats. Blessing to you, yours, and healing hearts.ReplyDelete
It's amazing how empty it is when one of our beloved furkids has gone OTB. (((hugs)))ReplyDelete
I feel as though Min never really had her full chance of living here. Thank you for stopping by.Delete
Minuet may have been small in stature, but it is clear her presence and the love you shared was huge. Purrs to you.ReplyDelete
That little madam indeed left a large hole not only in your cosy apt but your heart,too! She was a darling and I will miss hearing about her.ReplyDelete
The artwork is beautiful and a nice tribute to your girl.