Send Replacements!

It has happened again. Threads of death have been woven all throughout the fabric of my life for awhile now. Yesterday my sweet cat Pixie went to “kitty heaven” after living with cancer for the past several months. She was ten years old.

I remember the day Pixie became a part of my family in 1998. I was living out in the country, on ten bucolic acres with a log house and a barn. Late one afternoon as I strolled through the pasture with a friend, we heard a soft plaintive “mew” coming from the barn. We went into the barn and looked around. A scrawny grayish kitten, maybe six months old, looked down at us from the hay loft. She was hungry, scared, and alone. I have no idea where she came from, or how she found her way to my barn.

I had just lost my cat Rusty a few weeks earlier. My friend smiled and said, “well, you lose one, you gain one!” I nodded and headed towards the house to get some cat food for the thin little creature crouched in the loft.

As I watched the starving kitty bolt down a dish of cat chow, I wondered whether I should keep her. Even though I had recently lost a cat, there were several others living at my house. I decided that she could stay in the barn and I would bring her food and water every day. After I headed back down the path to the house, it was only a few minutes before she followed me and curled up contently on my front porch.

My friend asked me what I was going to name the new kitty. I said “Pixie” without even thinking about it. She had a slightly “elfish” look, and the name seemed perfect for her.

Pixie’s fur was light gray flecked with pale orange and cream colored highlights. My friends described her as a dilute calico. I thought of her colors as pastel, and affectionately called her “Pixie Pastel” many times over the years. Although she could be distrustful and aggressive with other felines, Pixie was sweet, friendly, and affectionate with her human family and friends. As a former stray, I think she always longed for connection and wanted to be loved.

At the veterinary clinic yesterday, after Pixie had gone peacefully to sleep, the vet told me how sorry she was for my loss, and then added “she’ll send a replacement – they always do!” I thought about the day Pixie arrived, soon after Rusty died. My sister passed away almost a year ago, and my beloved cat Blondie died just two months ago. Another one of my kitties, Goldie, died in 2006.

I still have several pet cats and dogs. Although Jack has two sons who live in Ohio, I have no biological children. I have only fur children. My kids are “graduating” and leaving home. This makes me sad, but having fewer pet responsibilities will make it easier for Jack and me to travel in the future. I’d love to see Ireland, India, and the Grand Canyon. Jack wants to go to Poland. But the loss of my only sibling and my cats leaves big holes in my life. Who will come along to replace them? Should I volunteer at a shelter for homeless cats? How will I get another sister? Like my Pixie, I long for connection and want to be loved. I wonder when the departed members of my family, both human and non-human, will send replacements. I suppose they will find their way into my life whenever the universe decides the time is right. I will look forward to blogging about these welcome arrivals.