The Duke and Duchess

I should be in bed asleep. I should be focusing on all of the good things in my life. I shouldnt be thinking of the reason why I came to belong to Duke 18 months ago. I should be thankful for the incredibly heavy ball of fur laying at the end of my bed while I type this -- which, I am. I love that cat even though when I first brought home a screaming, vampire teeth baring teeny ball of fluff I was positive I had made a mistake. He was meant to fill part of the huge hole in my heart. And slowly that screaming ball of fluff grew into a sleek seal point snowshoe siamese that SOMETIMES allows me to have reprieve from the reminder of how he came to be with me. He's a little bit of her... the breed that I love more than all others.


Never again in my life will I have something that is "just mine" the way I did ONCE. Just one time. She was mine. All mine. I went to the Anderson County Animal Control just after my 21st birthday. I wanted a cat. I'd grown up with them all of my life, and in college I wasn't allowed to have one in the apartment I lived in. In the summer before my senior year I didnt care about the rule -- I wanted a pet. So, my friend Ashley and I packed up a cardboard box and some towels and went to go find me a cat. There were lots of animals in need of a home, but one caught my eye in particular. She was beautiful and shy and turned around just once to look at me before turning away again. Her name was Sugar, and her tag said she was there because she was pregnant. The description didnt make sense to me so I inquired with a staff member about it and found out her owner had dumped her off because SHE was pregnant and didnt want the cat anymore. That was all the info I needed -- I had a soft spot for this beautiful creature who had a heartless owner, and at 3 years old was now homeless. I took her home with me.

The first night didnt go so well and Sugar slept under my bed, and as far away from me as she could. The next day I renamed her Duchess -- because my mother is the queen, I am the princess, and the next in line was her. Sounded good to me!!! Within two days of coming home with me she was attached to my hip -- literally. She followed me everywhere. She snuggled up and used my arm for a pillow at night (and eventually put her head on the pillow, too), she slept under the covers with me. She knew the sound of my footsteps in the hall, the jingle of my keys in the door (everywhere we lived she memorized my sounds), and the time of evening I would be home. She always sat by the door waiting for me.


She loved only me, and tolerated few others -- mainly just my mom. My dad said she was neurotic. I said she was particular.


Why the nostalgia? Because two years ago I slept on the floor, as far under the bed as I could get, to fall asleep as best I could with my hand on her. She was sick and I knew it would be the last night I'd ever spend with her again. In my heart of hearts, the sickening and dread of knowing what the next day would bring did not allow me to not lie on the floor with her. She was too weak to jump off of the bed in case she had to cough, or worse. Even as she bled internally (which I found out the next day), she would try to make it to her litter box so that she wouldn't make a mess anywhere else. I only had seven years with her. Seven wonderful years, and the only thing I've regretted in life involved my cat.


I spent a year without her having chosen a boyfriend over my faithful, forgiving, loyal and loving Duchess. Hind sight is 20/20 and a guy who didnt love or understand my love for animals wasn't someone I should have spent my time with anyway. Nuff said. When I went to my parents house Duchess always purred and snuggled and never left my side. She missed me as much as I missed her.


I still miss her. terribly. I used to think my connection to her was something that everyone experiences with a pet, but I was mistaken. I picked her at the animal shelter just as much as she picked me. Our personalities were similar, we were just as selective on who we love and allow to love us, aloof but loyal. She was my kid -- vet visits, medicines, responsibility, feeding her.


I know a lot of people that say pets are just pets. They dont get super attached to an animal. I dont know if I'll ever be able to love in that way again. When the vet called to say "it's about that time" a part of me died instantly. I was at work and it was a gorgeous day -- a warm day with a slight breeze, lots of sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. I dropped everything I was doing and sped to the vet's office. When I saw her I could tell she was fading quickly -- and that she had been hanging on just long enough for me to get there. Animals are perceptive -- much more than people give them credit for. I truly believe she needed to say goodbye to me and held on for as long as her weak body would allow her to. I snuggled her for a bit in my Jeep. Just she and I. I talked to her and stroked her ears like I always did. She purred a little bit for me and just watched me. I finally had to take her back inside to the room where the vet was waiting for me to give the "ok" to give her a shot to relieve her of her pain.


I'll never know how it happened but she began bleeding internally. Massive bleeding and there was nothing I could have done even with all of the money in the world. I could not have saved her. It took a few minutes to move through her system and put her at ease. And in that time I cried and cried and just held her and whispered how much I was going to miss her. My mom got a picture of that moment and I treasure it.


I've had my heart broken several times, but those events pale in comparison to that event in my life. It changed me. I constantly look for her in other cats -- her traits, her personality. but I never find her. My mom said that's a good thing because I would never be able to love another pet that resembles her in any way because I would only compare them to Duchess.


I wrote this for myself. A release of the sadness that still overwhelms me at times. This year is a little easier than last, Duke is nothing like her, Dinah resemebles her quite a bit, Haley snuggles like she did. I have bits and pieces of her to remind me, and the photo on my nightstand for the days that I manage to forget.


Duke helped fill the hole, and time will heal the rest.

I love you

It's not about what you think. That's actually the name of a song on a cd I picked up tonight. And yes, I STILL buy cd's. I dont care what you tell me -- I think they sound better than just downloading songs. So, the song is on the new Eli Young Band cd and it's about how everybody does something to fill a void they may have, or to keep them entertained -- stealing, drinking, fill in the blank. The guy in the song, however, loves her.

So I started thinking about how I used to fill the void in my life with something other than love. And what I substituted turned into an obsession and was a double edged sword. I ran. I ran like Forrest -- I just kept run-nen. I dropped nearly 35 pounds and looked phenominal. For a while. Then when I continued to lose weight I guess I looked bad. Or so my friends and family tell me now. But, when I'm back to my original weight it wouldnt be very nice of them to tell me how bad I look now!

I started running again on a daily basis about two weeks ago. Not because I need something to fill the emptiness in my heart. Lord knows my that if I could get any happier then I might explode and shower everyone around me in glitter, rainbows and kittens (because I associate these things with being happy). I'm marrying the most wonderful man in 6 weeks, work is going well, I have amazing friends, and supportive family. I'm pretty friggin happy!

I started running again because I have not been diligent or paying any attention whatsoever to what I was eating and I was "too busy" and "too tired" to exercise by the time I got home from work. I ran around Dunwoody this summer because it was easy and right outside my door when I had an urge. I didnt enjoy it though. I havent really enjoyed running in a very long time.

I found a new place to run near work. I dont give myself the opportunity to wimp out. But I forgot my ipod at home yesterday and "damnit!!!" was what I said as I scolded myself. About 3 minutes into my run I was SO glad that I didnt have Taylor Swift, Kesha, or whomever else may have flooded into my ears singing to me. Instead, I had a chance to listen and remember why I love running. I expereienced the pounding of my feet on the boards of the boardwalk. I heard the crickets. I heard birds singing and conversing in their own dialects and sounds through the trees around me. I heard the wind rustle the plants along the edges of the boardwalk. I noticed the changing of the color of the leaves. And I was able to concentrate on my breathing and pushing myself to run farther. I became a runner again instead of just someone who runs.

I may not have the void to fill anymore, but I can still enjoy the thing that filled up the hole in my heart until something else more wonderful and lasting came along.