Caterwauling

In which I’m shoving the whole entry behind the fold. I’ve got processing to do. And it’s catblogging. Carry on.

I’d come home early from work yesterday and did something unusual: I turned on iChat. For those of you who know me, you know I hate instant messenger programs. I want to surf the Internet in peace or, at the very least, I don’t like anyone being able to keep tabs on my whereabouts.

I’ve kept a number of people in my “peeps” list over the years. Mostly ex-dates get the boot, but otherwise, I keep friendly names just to remind myself that they’re out there.

Before Tiff and Tom started dating (and now they’re married. *swoon*), I’d taken down his IM name just in case he didn’t turn out to be the fabulous guy we know him as. I’ve never bothered him — we see each other at “family” (i.e., blog) functions and stay updated through Tiff.

For those of you on Macs, you see the user’s status message. And his happened to catch my eye as it read, “I’m sorry, Guinness. I tried.”

I’d knew that their adventure kitty had gone off on a six-week sojourn and had just reappeared. I also knew that he wasn’t feeling so well and that he was in the hosptial. But holy shit. Holy shit. That’s all I could think. I searched their blogs and saw that their beloved four-pawed baby was no longer with us. And I cried. Because I saw the joy in their faces just this weekend because they’d gotten their boy back. Because Guinness was 2 years old. Because this cat is just fucking awesome. Because I don’t want my friends to ache like this.

I had “Maddie” pen a tribute, wiped my tears and went to do a load of laundry. Whereupon one of the guys in the building stopped me to pay a wonderful compliment, which was kind of funny as I had been sobbing and all. 🙂

I didn’t known Guinness that well, but the one thing that always comes to mind was his powerful purr. I remember scooping him up and him just looking content, purring like the motor of a brand-new Hummer. I also remember watching him ripping up a tree because he saw a squirrel do it. I don’t know if he wanted to play with it or just see where it would lead, and even when he took off for a few weeks, I wonder where it was that he needed to go.

But the important thing is that he came home. He had a week with his parents before the month and a half without proper nutrition took its toll.

Guinness looks just like my Kadi, although he’s more muscular from all the exercise he got. (I’ve often offered to exchange them!) I gave my girls new collars and ID tags last night, and I hugged them a little tighter than usual and told them all about their cousin, the stupendous badass who lived nine lives in two years. I’ll remember you fondly, big G. As will anyone who’s ever had the pleasure of meeting you.

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