So, it’s been five days now. And I don’t seem to miss him a lot. I did look for him last night when I walked into the family room and Brian was watching television. I looked next to Brian to see Deej and he wasn’t there. I no longer hear him at my feet in the office. I don’t feel him rubbing on my legs. I don’t hear him climbing up on the chair next to the bed at night.
My cat towel usage has gone way down, there hasn’t been one puddle of pee in the laundry room since he left. (Yes, there’s poop, Lonee quit using a litterbox for some reason, but that’s pretty easy to clean up, unless she has the runs like yesterday and today.) And since Oliver has started on the amoxicillan, there has been no pee in the bathroom. It’s safe to go in there at night without turning on the light.
I guess maybe it was because I had resolved myself to the fact, for all these years, that he wouldn’t be one of those cats who lived to see his twenties. Every month, I wondered if he’d be here next month. So, I guess that helped me with his passing and his absence. I think I’m more melancholy than sad. I think that’s a better description of how I feel.
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