feline eulogy

I've know now, since last Saturday. It was reported in the newspaper a pedigree grey/white cat was killed on the road in an area called Ilam. Ilam is 10km from my house, where she was stolen. Apparently she had been living in a park nearby the road for a couple of days. She was trying to come home... but my little girl knows nothing of roads and how to negotiate them. I take some comfort in knowing she had escaped her abductors. That she knew where she wanted to be, and despite her fear of roads and cars, she was trying her best to come home.

Shit, I'm crying even as type this, and I was being so good these past two days.

I'm trying to let go of my hurt feelings. But the actions of these people have twisted my good thoughts of my little girl into anger and hate. And terrible terrible grief. It's all I've been feeling for a month. I try to picture her happy, and all I can see is her alone and confused and scared. Wondering why some people would take her away from her home and her sister. Why they would keep her inside. And then her living in a park (she wasn't an outside cat at all). I picture her hungry and sad and f*** I feel twisted inside.

I am so angry at them for what they have done to my family. Pandora spent days howling for her sister. I hear she won't sleep where they both used to sleep nor will she go down the driveway. Because that's where her sister went and didn't return. Mum has worried and cried for a month, spent hundreds of dollars advertising for her recovery. And then she went through a stage of self-blame. She wondered if Gizmo might have left because she hadn't been keeping her happy enough after I had left. I told her that was silly, Gizmo wouldn't leave, ever. Plus I told her I would be coming back for her.

And if only someone had looked in the paper. But no, not until she's dead. And even now we haven't recovered her body. Someone took her from the road, and the only way we know it was her was due to people recognising her from photos. I guess that leaves the possibility that she could be out there, that they were mistaken. But holding onto that hope hurts as well. I can't move on thinking like that.

So let me write about Gizmo, perhaps one of the final things I'll say on here about her, then I'm going to attempt to move on and let go this anger that hangs over me.

So let's start from the beginning. Gizmo was my 20th birthday present. My last cat (Tabby) had died about..6 months previous? She was old, she'd lived her life, but I was still so sad. I wanted another cat so desperately.

My mum went onto a mission to find a pedigree. We'd always had common moggies for pets, and this time she thought it would be nice to have something a little more special. So when she met her good friend Lois's cat "Billy" she was set. That she wanted me to have a British Blue. They are renowned for round features, lovely temperament and massive eyes. lol, Gizmo embodied these exactly.

On my birthday, mum rang to say she would be a little late from work. I knew, I just knew what she was doing. I had been enquiring about getting a kitten for a while, and so I waited up stairs for her to come home, smiling the whole time. And when she came home, OMG that kitten was beautiful. And so little, lookng a little dazed, I just sat there and looked at her in her cage for a few minutes.

The first thing she did was climb up the towel rail and fall down with this massive towel on top of her. Sooo cute.

That night I had to set up a stool next to my bed, it was so high and I was scared of her falling off. She slept on my pillow above my head. All stretched out as if that's how it had always been. Every time I touched her she purred. Without fail.

Two weeks later we adopted her sister, Pandora. Pandora has a heart murmer, and so far is exceeding medical expectations of a 2 year life span! They were so cute together. Every morning they would wake up and lick each other, like a good morning greeting. They still did that every morning, even when grown up.

Gizmo picked up a few funny traits, as all cats do, unique to herself. She is the first cat I've known, to be completely unafraid of me (and only me). I could chase her, yell, stomp my feet and nothing would make her afraid. I would chase her up the stairs, and then she would chase me back down. That was our little game together. She would carry her cat toys around in her mouth, and barge into a room meowing as if she had a fresh catch. She always wanted people to know she was around. She never, ever scratched me. If I held her near somewhere she didn't like, she would bury her head into my shoulder and not look. Actually, I should say she never scratched anyone.

Humans were claws-off.

So what can you say about that.... she would scratch her sister and be afraid of Murray if he growled at her. But she had complete trust in me. She had so much personality. And the biggest fluffy tail, you couldn't help but give it a squeeze went she floated past. She hated it..lol, you would get a tap from her paw.

R.I.P Momo