Literary Mileage
Sad Homecoming

04/09/2012

Ben

My return last week to Washington, after 3 months away, has been heartbreaking. In late February, my cat/plant/house sitter called to say that my 11-year old cat Ben was sick. There began a roller coaster ride of vet visits, prednisone pills, B-12 shots, 3-way phone calls and emails with Capital Cat Clinic, and both good and bad days for Ben and the rest of us. At one point, I was out of the country and coming home was impossible. When I could have flown home, Ben was doing well. It all came to an abrupt end last Monday when I flew home and met Ben at the clinic to be with him one last time before he died. He was incredibly weak but wagged his tail a couple of times to say hi. I was grateful for the chance to hold and pet him for awhile. Then the doctor gave him a light sedative before euthanizing him.
Ben and Jerry came into my life at a particularly significant point when I adopted them in April 2001.

Jerry

In the wake of 9/11, the Washington Post invited people to write what was comforting to them as we all adjusted to our new reality. This is what I wrote:
I jolt awake from the horror of people jumping from a black and red inferno. The cats reposition themselves where I can pet them. They are warm and noisy. Their purrs drown out helicopters and F-16s overhead and soothe me back to sleep. I envy their simple instincts—food, water, litter.
Ben and Jerry usually woke me about 6:00 a.m.; we had a morning ritual where I would feed them and then fix a cup of tea. They would snarf down their food and join me on the couch to ‘help’ me write and enjoy my tea.

Master nappers

My son thinks Ben missed Jerry (his sibling who died last August) and wanted to be with him. I like to think of them, high on catnip, chasing each other down some celestial hallway and then collapsing in a furry heap to nap–something they both mastered to perfection.

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