The Burlap Soulmate

I was driving to work today, looking at all the fresh clean snow piled (and I do mean PILED) in banks along the road. I kept thiniking that something didn't look right...something was missing. Then I realized what it was. Snowmobile tracks. There weren't any snowmobile tracks along the road. Through my entire childhood, adolescence, and later adult life in my home state, you never saw a mound of snow without some evidence of a passing snowmobile. I would so love to climb onto one now and go tearing along the highway. I can guarantee it would blow everyone's mind.

As you can probably tell, it snowed yesterday. A lot. Or at least a lot for down down here. It will probably be gone in a week, but I'm going to enjoy it in the meantime. It wasn't any fun getting home, although Staz had a far worse time than I did. Once I got home however, it was different. It was fun. I couldn't resist a walk in the stuff, or stopping to listen to the quiet stillness, the only sound each individual flake bouncing off a vinyl winter coat. It reminded me of being a kid on a miniature mountaintop, laying on a sled and looking up at the sky, just savoring the peace of the moment, and the anticipation of a whirlwind flight down to the bottom.

What can I say? You can take the boy out of Michigan...

I took out four bowls again. I always split a can of Friskies between our four cats, except we no longer have four cats. It doesn't look right, three bowls on the counter. It doesn't look right to see three cats lined up in anticipation, to hear three cats chowing down once you put the bowls down. Theres no cat in my lap as I write this trying desperately to get up on the desk and making me tipe rong in te prosess.

The nights are the hardest. Well, maybe the mornings are the hardest. Hell, the whole damn day pretty much sucks. I miss Guinness terribly. Not the beer silly. If you don't know who she is, go here. I miss her wails from the office, I miss her greeting me at the door. I miss her rolling around at my feet just happy to see me again.

Most people don't get it, so it's hard to relate to anyone, let alone talk about it. Oh, you lost a cat? Thats too bad. I had a cat once. Yeah, thats tough. Its more than just tough. Its gut wrenching and heart breaking and debilitating all at the same time. Its a physical weight threatening to drag me under the water at all times.

Maybe they're right. Maybe I have lost perspective. Parents lose their sons and daughters every day in a war halfway around the world. There is no shortage of atrocities and pointless and tragic deaths around the world every second of every day. How dare I feel this way about a cat, let alone write about it and expect to get sympathy for it? Maybe thats all true. But I can't deny how I feel. I can't deny this totally unexpected and all-encompassing physical pain that I have when I think about it. And for her sake I wouldn't even try.