October, 2006
It is apparently the year for loss. Not normally a cat person, until recently, I had three. The youngest was an insane little guy that I did my best to ignore. It was impossible, he had more personality than that little body should have had. Fortunately he grew into that huge personality instead of it continuing to grow as well. He ignored the warnings of the older two – instead worming his way into their structured lives. Whenever we were in the pasture, there followed Aslan. I couldn’t work outside without the little guy being right there. A constant companion to the Great Pyrenees, he hunted grasshoppers like nobody’s business.
I buried him on Friday. He didn’t come in one night, and when he didn’t come to my calls the next morning I knew something was up. He always came when called. I found him alongside the road.
I didn’t think to show the other two cats their now-accepted best friend was dead. They called to him, they searched, two older veteran mousers searching for the one that forced them to play, to run, to jump for no reason. I didn’t realize they felt such loyalty to each other. But they do.
A couple of days later I looked into the giant blue eyes of my little girl and tried to find an answer to her question of why he had to go, he wasn’t even a year old daddy…I didn’t have an answer. She was right, it wasn’t fair and he was way too young to go. Only the good die young, right?
My girls helped me make a cross. My daughter summed it up the best I think:
Aslan, 2006 to 2006
Farm Lion – fierce, proud and insane
We love and miss you
I would never have guessed I would miss “just a stupid cat.” But I do. Run with Blaze Aslan. I guess we’ll listen for you in the wind. And we’ll never forget. Sigh.
