#baoba

big one was chewing bits of plastic. i was always scared that's what was going to kill her. impacted bowel or something.

another was attention seeking. knocking shit over then staring at me like. and if i didn't immediately run over she'd maintain eye contact and knock something else over.

she would always wake me up in the morning. but when she was little, she would do so by gently scratching my face harder and harder until it woke me up. woke up with scratch marks many times.

when she was little she would also sit on my face to suffocate me to wake me up.

i think those behaviours started because when she was little, she would sleep between my boobs all night. so my face was right there.

also the illiterate lady haaated when i read books. she would run over, put her paw between the pages, and push it to the ground. wtffff

all of a sudden, out of nowhere, i just started weeping thinking about her.

i don't feel like i need her litter box or feeding bowls or carrier anymore emotionally. but i do not want to regret tossing them.

materially, do i really wanna buy a new one if i ever meet another little friend who needs a home?

spiritually, this is still her home. it doesn't feel like it's right to take her stuff out. y'know? at the same time, when does it stop being her home? am i going to keep this cat's toilet box until i die? do i want to? maybe???

and even though i said i don't feel like i need them emotionally, what if i regret it? what if i need them more than i think i do?

on the plus side, things are getting better overall. haven't cried in two days. and i've been feeling the spark in my chest when i work out, y'know?

i still keep her ashes near me most of the time. but less in a delusional/spiritual way like when i got them back, more like a stuffed animal. comforting and a reminder. only talking to them if i've got something new to say.

and i think i understand, now, how grown ass adults believe in ghosts and like heaven.

the vet included a card about like. oh there's this rainbow bridge with green pastures where she'll play with other animals happily until you pass along and reunite. it's childish, but it's a touching story.

and also it FEELS like there's a ghost??? like. my body feels a weight on my chest. my muscle memory assumes it's a cat. my conscious knows its her (ashes). it's like an optical illusion. i KNOW there's not a ghost. but boy there sure is a ghost here.

14 years