I wrote this back a while ago ... before I lost my old girl. And tonight, while doing a totally unrelated Google search, I found it quite by accident. *grin* So much has changed in my home since I wrote this in late Fall of 1999 - so much is different now. I so miss my Geezers.
~gf~
Of Empty Hallways and Hearts
It is nigh on 2 am...do you know where your old Geezer Kitty is?
I, the MomCat, lie in bed reading, it is way late as usual. Next year, the Millenium, I will reset my Internal Clock from "Night Owl" mode to jive with the rest of the World, I PROMISE. Well, maybe I will.
Calypso is on my chest, perched in the "meatloaf" position, eager for her due quality time. A most well-read Siamese cat, she. I have learned to read between her ears, "her lines"-- by holding my book up a bit until my arms quiver. She purrs and licks the hand not petting her. The numbness in my arms is all worth it.
I am suddenly aware of the silence, the absence in the house... "Where is Whitney?" the unconscious, instinctive neurons fire in my brain as a knot forms instantaneously in my stomach.
It has been quiet too long, no pacing and YEOWLING at the bedroom door. "Come to bed, MomCat", the Geezer Whitney usually howls come the 10 o'clock hour, "Airlift me up to the bed with you, let me warm my Geezer chilled paws on yer belly and tuck my head under your chin and breath the fluff-a-huffa sleep-breath of the ages, NOWYEOWL!!"
It has been quiet too long. The familiar, perpetual, WORRY is back. Is she sleeping under the lamp in the family room? The 200 Watt Reader Light, her favorite spot, under which she fries her brains nightly, was extinguished hours ago much to her dismay. Or, is she visiting with Sadira (gone almost 2 years now from our realm), on the spot in the darkened living room where she left us? She is surely not upstairs, for her legs will not take her up the stairs any more with bladder intact--she is a proud, clean Geezer and will not withstand that indignity again--the puddle under her paws--better to stay down on the first level, better to pee in the litterbox in the kitchen like a weemeeze. The Meezer KitKat, Calypso (aka CallyOop, The Wuss, BooBerry) will lurk around the corner and obsessively cover her droppings, bless her heart.
It has been quiet way too long! So where could she be??? I worry-wart forward - think to a time when the hallway outside our bedroom door will be dark and silent always of her presence, her asymmetrical gimp, the licking of her chops after a schnack, a glimpse of her almost white chest peeking through the dark hallway tunnel, the dull glimmer of once bright crystal blue eyes, the Sealy earpoints as she slowly approaches and circles the bed like a shark ...I do not see or hear these signs of Whitney in our hallway...a sickly Geezer Meezer cannot last forever....when in doubt, WORRY!
I resist the urge to jump from bed to search for Whitney, bring her into our warm fold. It would disturb Calypso's quality time, alone with me, while her sister, Mara practices her Mini Howls and Nocturnal Ablutions upstairs, the ever-practicing-but-never-quite-mastering student of Whitney. My breathing becomes labored, I take a drag from the always-present cigarette, read and reread the same line 15 times, eyes darting down the Ranch-O-Rama Bowling Alley Style Hallway of this home of ours, seemingly never without Whitney's presence.
AAAHHHH!! I hear her!!!!! CLICK CLICK CLICK, the lovingly familiar sound of her old, brittle claws along the hardwood floorboards ... yes, there she is, now her white chest comes into focus and soon the awful and unmistakable YYYYEEEEOOOWWWLLLLL of a chilled, angry Geezer Meezer. I can breathe again, my jaw relaxes. Whitney approaches, her shoulders still retain the swagger of her mighty youth, though her sealy tail, once always at high noon, now sags at half mast. Her hips ... her poor little hips ... they fail her now too, as she begs, er DEMANDS her bed space. "LIFT ME UP NOWYEOWL!!"
Lights out. Another night. Just the 4 of us, cozy, in bed. The darkened hallway looks different, somehow less menacing now. Whit's evening processional has left a glow of hope. I am thankful for her spunky persistence and her Spirit that keeps her with us these colder Fall nights.
Nighty Night to all Geezer MomzNPops who worry about Empty Hallways and "things that don't go bump in the night".
~gf~
Of Empty Hallways and Hearts
It is nigh on 2 am...do you know where your old Geezer Kitty is?
I, the MomCat, lie in bed reading, it is way late as usual. Next year, the Millenium, I will reset my Internal Clock from "Night Owl" mode to jive with the rest of the World, I PROMISE. Well, maybe I will.
Calypso is on my chest, perched in the "meatloaf" position, eager for her due quality time. A most well-read Siamese cat, she. I have learned to read between her ears, "her lines"-- by holding my book up a bit until my arms quiver. She purrs and licks the hand not petting her. The numbness in my arms is all worth it.
I am suddenly aware of the silence, the absence in the house... "Where is Whitney?" the unconscious, instinctive neurons fire in my brain as a knot forms instantaneously in my stomach.
It has been quiet too long, no pacing and YEOWLING at the bedroom door. "Come to bed, MomCat", the Geezer Whitney usually howls come the 10 o'clock hour, "Airlift me up to the bed with you, let me warm my Geezer chilled paws on yer belly and tuck my head under your chin and breath the fluff-a-huffa sleep-breath of the ages, NOWYEOWL!!"
It has been quiet too long. The familiar, perpetual, WORRY is back. Is she sleeping under the lamp in the family room? The 200 Watt Reader Light, her favorite spot, under which she fries her brains nightly, was extinguished hours ago much to her dismay. Or, is she visiting with Sadira (gone almost 2 years now from our realm), on the spot in the darkened living room where she left us? She is surely not upstairs, for her legs will not take her up the stairs any more with bladder intact--she is a proud, clean Geezer and will not withstand that indignity again--the puddle under her paws--better to stay down on the first level, better to pee in the litterbox in the kitchen like a weemeeze. The Meezer KitKat, Calypso (aka CallyOop, The Wuss, BooBerry) will lurk around the corner and obsessively cover her droppings, bless her heart.
It has been quiet way too long! So where could she be??? I worry-wart forward - think to a time when the hallway outside our bedroom door will be dark and silent always of her presence, her asymmetrical gimp, the licking of her chops after a schnack, a glimpse of her almost white chest peeking through the dark hallway tunnel, the dull glimmer of once bright crystal blue eyes, the Sealy earpoints as she slowly approaches and circles the bed like a shark ...I do not see or hear these signs of Whitney in our hallway...a sickly Geezer Meezer cannot last forever....when in doubt, WORRY!
I resist the urge to jump from bed to search for Whitney, bring her into our warm fold. It would disturb Calypso's quality time, alone with me, while her sister, Mara practices her Mini Howls and Nocturnal Ablutions upstairs, the ever-practicing-but-never-quite-mastering student of Whitney. My breathing becomes labored, I take a drag from the always-present cigarette, read and reread the same line 15 times, eyes darting down the Ranch-O-Rama Bowling Alley Style Hallway of this home of ours, seemingly never without Whitney's presence.
AAAHHHH!! I hear her!!!!! CLICK CLICK CLICK, the lovingly familiar sound of her old, brittle claws along the hardwood floorboards ... yes, there she is, now her white chest comes into focus and soon the awful and unmistakable YYYYEEEEOOOWWWLLLLL of a chilled, angry Geezer Meezer. I can breathe again, my jaw relaxes. Whitney approaches, her shoulders still retain the swagger of her mighty youth, though her sealy tail, once always at high noon, now sags at half mast. Her hips ... her poor little hips ... they fail her now too, as she begs, er DEMANDS her bed space. "LIFT ME UP NOWYEOWL!!"
Lights out. Another night. Just the 4 of us, cozy, in bed. The darkened hallway looks different, somehow less menacing now. Whit's evening processional has left a glow of hope. I am thankful for her spunky persistence and her Spirit that keeps her with us these colder Fall nights.
Nighty Night to all Geezer MomzNPops who worry about Empty Hallways and "things that don't go bump in the night".
