{"id":572,"date":"2015-05-07T11:12:26","date_gmt":"2015-05-07T14:12:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.aerendel.org\/news\/?p=572"},"modified":"2015-05-07T11:12:26","modified_gmt":"2015-05-07T14:12:26","slug":"ouch-grief-and-hope-and-remembering","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/aerendel.ca\/NBnews\/index.php\/2015\/05\/07\/ouch-grief-and-hope-and-remembering\/","title":{"rendered":"Ouch: Grief and Hope and Remembering"},"content":{"rendered":"

Thursday, May 7th, 2015 -( 14\u00b0C \/ 57\u00b0F\u00a0 & Sunny and warm @10:15 here in Atlantic Canada )-<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

\"More<\/a>

Moe in February of 2006 – Hanging out atop the hideout we got for Sasha, who died of a heart attack after being with us for less than three months. Sasha was a bit timid and Domino was much bigger than she was and he played a little too rough for her.
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— Yesterday was my cousin-in-law Joe’s birthday.<\/span><\/p>\n

— Also yesterday, & totally unrelated to Joe’s birthday, my stomach was sore. fter a while I felt a bit like I might be sick if I tried to do too much, and defined ‘too much’ as ‘trying to do any more than I already had, folding up a big tarp and moving it under the section of unfinished plywood roof that had blown off the frame I was building around the steel yard shed. -The plan was to finish building a protective wood shed for our firewood, outside the steel tool shed. Because we couldn’t finish the woodshed before we were inundated with snow last winter, and because the second part of my pension is in orbit somewhere, we couldn’t afford another cord of firewood, so it cost us at least $300 more a month to heat our house which meant we couldn’t pay a couple other bills which meant- anxiety for mon amour fou. <\/span><\/p>\n

— Last night I dreamed I was doing yoga stomach lifts. I dreamed that I remembered having done stomach lifts the day or night before and I wondered if that was why my stomach hurt. (Probably not- my stomach probably hurt from crying over our cat’s death, crying to the point where I burst into coughing fits, which probably strained my stomach muscles.) Today I wondered if part of the reason I took Domino’s death so hard was I saw him suffering through his last couple days. Maybe that hurt me more than it did him. He complained, meowing mournfully just a little bit louder than he did when he was upset because a door was closed and doors just shouldn’t be closed. That’s part of many cats’ philosophy. Some doors should never be closed. Some doors should always be closed, but some should never be closed. He also meowed fairly loudly and stared at things that maybe he could see and we couldn’t, halfway up the wall in the living room and other spots around the house.<\/span><\/p>\n

— Last night before we went to bed, Cathi told me she’d found a photo of Moe from 2004, so maybe he was a couple years older than the “8 years old” she’d reported online somewhere a couple days ago. I went digging through old blogs and found evidence back as far as 2005 and she checked out her old bravenet blog and found the passage she’d written there and posted in April of 2004, the day after she brought Moe home from the shelter. -( my stepdaughter, Cathi’s daughter, Erin, had fallen in love with Max a scrappy little British grey cat, partially because he was an older cat and she was worried that nobody would want him. I’m really not sure of all the details, but I think we were in the Ottawa animal shelter to pick up Max when one of us blurted out the fact that Sasha had died of a heart attack shortly after we brought her home. The right person at the shelter heard that and told us she would give us a voucher good for a replacement for Sasha. We brightened, asked about possible replacements who might be there that day, and we were introduced to Moe, who’d been left off outside the shelter, who seemed to like and get along with all the other animals in the shelter, but who had a cough and needed to be ‘fixed’. Before they ‘fixed’ him they carried him around and brought him up to the doors of several other cages, he said hello and didn’t pick any fights with any of the cats there. Cathi remembered that they handed Moe to Erin and he leaned on her shoulder and gave her a hug. Cathi believes we have a photo of that somewhere on her backup drive. Anyway, I’m about to copy and paste the entry that Cathi found last night. )-<\/span><\/p>\n

I don’t think this will print itself twice here, but I better check to make sure.<\/span><\/p>\n

Link —> http:\/\/cathi_harris.bravejournal.com\/archive\/04\/25\/2004<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

===== Cathi’s blog entry is below this =====
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Sunday, April 25th 2004<\/span><\/h1>\n

12:17 AM<\/span><\/h2>\n

Welcome Tigger!<\/span><\/h3>\n<\/div>\n