So, got a call the other day, whilest I was fast asleep.
It was from Baby Sis, and My Love picked up the phone.
Know how you can be kinda-sorta asleep, aware enough to register familiar noises but not really be disturbed by them? Yeah, well this nap was not to be. I could tell almost immediately that My Love was going into comfort-mode, and that Baby Sis was crying. A few seconds more was enough to tell me that it wasn't due to a recent break-up or anything, but due to a 'death in the family'.
Shit.
When I was told that it was that Lazy Bum had died, my thoughts were roughly;
1) Thank God.
2) Er, that didn't sound right...
3)... thank God that it was just one of the cats.
4) Guess I can't really claim to be all that much of a cat person now, huh.
As nap time was pretty much kaput, I threw on some shoes and moseyed on over to Mom's house. Mom was kind of upset, completely understandable due to the fact that she's a stereotypical cat-lady and that this was one of 'Dad's cats'. Lazy Bum was everybodys cat, really, largely due to the fact that he was so dang lazy anyone could pick him up and pet him. Heck, he wouldn't even get outta the way of the over-amorous toy-poodle that Mom dotes on. But he and Dad used to cuddle on the couch, so...
So Mom and I hung out a bit, enough to establish that she'd be ok, more or less. We talked a bit about Dad, all of her 'beasties- those that have died and those that are still roaming around- and that she wanted to bury the cat in the back yard, mebbe plant a tree in a bit. I volunteered to dig the hole with Mom's 2ft shovel and reminisced about good times with an e-tool. Eventually got a little bit of a chuckle out of Mom, telling her about the days in the Corps when a young PFC Murphy had to complete his e-tool qualification, so that was good.
Meh, the whole time that Mom and I were talking, her mother was just sitting on the couch, with an odd expression on her face. See, to her, cats were for killing mice in the barn, and not really much else after that. She was trying to understand, you could see it on her face, but it just wasn't quite working. Guess Gramma definitely fits into the dog-person type.
So, here's to you, Lazy Bum, may the mousies run slow, the milk pour just right, and all the poodles find someone else to bother. Say 'Lo to Dad for me...
It was from Baby Sis, and My Love picked up the phone.
Know how you can be kinda-sorta asleep, aware enough to register familiar noises but not really be disturbed by them? Yeah, well this nap was not to be. I could tell almost immediately that My Love was going into comfort-mode, and that Baby Sis was crying. A few seconds more was enough to tell me that it wasn't due to a recent break-up or anything, but due to a 'death in the family'.
Shit.
When I was told that it was that Lazy Bum had died, my thoughts were roughly;
1) Thank God.
2) Er, that didn't sound right...
3)... thank God that it was just one of the cats.
4) Guess I can't really claim to be all that much of a cat person now, huh.
As nap time was pretty much kaput, I threw on some shoes and moseyed on over to Mom's house. Mom was kind of upset, completely understandable due to the fact that she's a stereotypical cat-lady and that this was one of 'Dad's cats'. Lazy Bum was everybodys cat, really, largely due to the fact that he was so dang lazy anyone could pick him up and pet him. Heck, he wouldn't even get outta the way of the over-amorous toy-poodle that Mom dotes on. But he and Dad used to cuddle on the couch, so...
So Mom and I hung out a bit, enough to establish that she'd be ok, more or less. We talked a bit about Dad, all of her 'beasties- those that have died and those that are still roaming around- and that she wanted to bury the cat in the back yard, mebbe plant a tree in a bit. I volunteered to dig the hole with Mom's 2ft shovel and reminisced about good times with an e-tool. Eventually got a little bit of a chuckle out of Mom, telling her about the days in the Corps when a young PFC Murphy had to complete his e-tool qualification, so that was good.
Meh, the whole time that Mom and I were talking, her mother was just sitting on the couch, with an odd expression on her face. See, to her, cats were for killing mice in the barn, and not really much else after that. She was trying to understand, you could see it on her face, but it just wasn't quite working. Guess Gramma definitely fits into the dog-person type.
So, here's to you, Lazy Bum, may the mousies run slow, the milk pour just right, and all the poodles find someone else to bother. Say 'Lo to Dad for me...
4 comments:
Aw. Tell your mom I'm sorry. I'm a cat person myself; one of my two just ran out of my room. I've had a few cats over the years of the Lazy Bum variety; they're about the best.
Cute kitty. Being an animal person, I understand how mom & sis feel. Like you said, my the mousies run slow and the milk be just right. I can see your dad with Lazy Bum in his lap right now. :)
Sorry to hear that Murph.
Condolences on the loss...
Can't come between a mom and her pets.
And if you feel the need to get REALLY misty-eyed, , check this out:
http://www.petloss.com/poems/maingrp/rainbowb.htm
(yeah, guys & gals...I'll get there WITH 'ya...sooner or later)
Carry On.
B.G.
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