7:13 p.m. - 2007-02-26
Eulogy for a Friend
I dug a hole today.
It was perfect and deep. The cool earth was still moist from recent rains. Dilligently I toiled in the sun, shedding my jacket quickly. I wanted this to be perfect. It HAD to be perfect in eulogy for my friend. Eighteen inches wide, twelve inches across. As I cut through roots, and hit the dark red layer of clay-like soil, I cried. I sweated and I cried and I thought to myself I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to put my friend in the ground. My tears mingled with dirt and I thought I had cried bucketfuls.
Finally it was deep enough, symmetrical and rectangular. The time had come to say goodbye. I picked up your box and caught a glimpse of your soft fur through the clear tape. I wanted to open that box and take you out of the dark, but instead I cradled it lovingly, feeling your weight in my arms for the very, very last time. I didn't want to let go of that feeling. I stood there in the sunshine, with your box in my arms and I cried some more. I loved you so much. My friend. My baby. My smiling, meowing face that waited impatiently in the morning for me to wake up already and feed me I'm hungry! My soft gray and white baby who purred so happily in my ear. Who always came when I called her. I'll never forget you my sweet friend. Your passing left a giant hole in my heart that even time won't fill.
Rest in Peace. In kitty cat heaven. Full of wheat grass, and yarn balls, and your sister, Marie.
You were loved with my whole heart.
Freddie, Fred-Fred, Tubby
February 12, 2001 to February 25, 2007
