Tabbie

It is one year since the death of our cat, Tabbie. It hurts as much now as it did then.

We still love you, Tabbie.

From the moment I first saw you, in the closet, in the cardboard box, being ridiculed as stupid, I saw a poor creature that no one wanted.

And when Lou adopted Patch, Mary T. sent you home with him insisting that my mother said that Lou needed two cats for company. My mother, of course, said no such thing.

There we all were with you, a little runt, who cowered with every glance and every caress.

We didn’t have a name for you and so we called you Tabbie.

TabbieRoo - Tabber

Beanie - Beanbag

Eeny of the Beanies - and Tabberini.

You weren’t stupid. You were King of the Yard and won many battles, bringing home much booty. No one had street smarts like you. Often victorious, you always knew where home was and although the street rang with “Tabbie come home”, you would put up a fuss and answer back but you always returned.

You were quite a talker, getting us up every morning to do your bidding. With you around, there was no real need for an alarm clock.

You loved thunderstorms and always sat in the window to catch each bit of action, thunder peals, lightning bolts and raindrops.

You loved your towels and Lou’s shoes and my purses.

You really never asked for anything but we saw the suffering in your eyes. We saw it every time you climbed to the window and looked out at a world that you could no longer have.

So Goodbye, Tabbie.

Be King again. Reign over a kingdom, filled with the best thunderstorms.

May you find the best bush for shelter and observation.

We wish that now you need never cower again and be frightened by every glance and every caress and we send you all the kisses and caresses that we tried to give you, here, on this earth.

But most of all, we wish you peace, little friend, best buddy and all around cool cat.

Vaya con Dios, Tabbie and may the first person you meet be St. Francis of Assisi and you will never fear anything, anymore.