A New Direction
Today marks a new chapter in my life for this blog and a new direction.
I have changed the domain name to The Tuxedo Cat in honour of my beautiful little friend whom I shared some Earth time with and who changed my life forever. She is pictured below.
Her son is laying here right now as I type this. He’s his own person however I can’t deny, she lives on in him and for that, I am very grateful. This is him below, pictured next to his Mum.
And that takes me to the cat I re-homed because I was so smitten with the delightful little Tuxedo cat and her beautiful jet black son. She is pictured below and is also a Tuxedo Cat.
So, welcome to The Tuxedo Cat. Our home on the internet.
They Own Us
The look you get
When one cat thinks
You gave the other
A single second’s
I am trying to find the direction for this blog. As of yet, it is drifting rudderless and maybe it has to until I can ascertain where it needs to be? Maybe that is part of the charm? I don’t know. I just hope you will all stay around while it finds its way.
I am sitting up in bed right now. Well, ‘bed’ might be too strong a word for what I have going here because I am in the kitchen.
The thick mat which usually sits on the carpet in front of the fireplace in the lounge is the base element for the thin but firm mattress which is sitting on top of it, then a thin blanket on top of that and all finished off with pillows and a thick duvet.
My mate, a gorgeous jet black cat is beside me. My other cat is upstairs and I do one night on/one night off with my pal because he attacks my other one. Tonight is the ‘one night on’ with him.
He didn’t come back in until just after 10 p.m. because he knew I was unhappy with what he did earlier – which was to bring to me a living, petrified creature of unknown species (it could have been a small hare, a rat or a mouse). I didn’t see it other than it was in his mouth and before I could ascertain what, he had shot off down the garden and over the fence with me running closely behind. I don’t know the fate of said creature other than it was intermittently screaming in terror.
I have been watching YouTube videos this evening and I stopped a short while back to tell him (not that he can comprehend my words but maybe he would be able to get a sense of them from the feelings I imbued them with?) that he never needed to fear me ever and certainly not based upon what had occurred earlier in the day, that he could have shown up immediately afterwards and I would have let him know I wasn’t happy (by shaking my head and holding off a tad in terms of affection for a very short time) but that he would have also known, in no uncertain terms, that I was glad to see him and that he is loved by me, which he most certainly is.
I stroked his head while I said this and he nuzzled against my hand, purred and we looked at each other adoringly. He is now laying beside me, curled up, his catnip mouse toy entwined in his paws. All is good. I hope he sleeps well and has the sweetest of dreams. I hope that whatever it was I saw him with has a far more pleasant future incarnation and lives its life out free from harm also knowing it is loved, far away from presently dreaming feline predators.
The Unbearable Sound Of Silence
I am sitting here typing this, just 2 feet from where I laid with Xev on the morning of the 1st September 2021 – her last day on Earth and just 6 feet from where I last cradled her frail spent body before she was placed in a carrier and taken to the Vet.
Often we would be in the same room together, nearly always touching each other or the closest we could be without doing so, with her on the next chair to me as one example. She would be asleep and I would be ‘doing stuff’ and there would be no words spoken.
In that silence was companionship, friendship, love. Deep, resounding love.
Now, without her I just have the unbearable sound of silence for company and it’s deafening.
Some days, it’s almost too much to bear.
Xev is still with me, in everything I do. The towel she used to lay on is still draped across her favourite chair, as a reminder of where my friend would lay.
Time will never heal this grief because I lost a member of my Soul Tribe. The only way I can perceive of moving forward is of being to others what Xev was for me.
It’s all I can do to make sense of what has occurred.
I am sitting here tonight. Sad. Tearful. Missing my friend, Xev.
All the things which I felt important while she was alive, have been rendered wholly meaningless with her passing.
What I would give now, to be with her. Totally distraction free. In the moment.
Thinking Back On A Life
I wrote this the day after I lost my friend, Xev.
I Am Lonely Without You
My little friend died yesterday. To some she would just be seen as a bit of fur. Just a pet. “Never mind, these things happen. Wait a while and get yourself a new one.”
She was my mate, my friend. I loved her. She loved me. We had a bond which is irreplaceable. Just like her. Irreplaceable. She was the love of my life. I wish I had found her in human form but you know, beggars can’t be choosers. The simple fact is we found each other and for six and a half years, we had each other.
I will miss the sound she made when she played with her toy. I will miss her bringing it to me as a gift. I will miss her cuddling up to me at night and hers being the first face I saw every morning. I will miss her purr. I will miss her little tiger’s roar – she never miaowed but instead gave a mini roar.
I will miss her smell – of linen sheets and loveliness. I will miss looking into her eyes and seeing the universe play out inside them. I will miss her squeezing my fingers with her paws. I will miss her laying on my side and peering at me from my shoulder even though it was the most uncomfortable position for us both to lay in. I will miss her markings which made it look like she was wearing a tuxedo.
But most of all, I will miss her. She stood just 10 inches tall yet she occupied a massive place in my heart. She was my everything. She was a complex and highly nuanced person housed in the smallest of frames and now she is gone. Our life together played out in an area no larger than 100ft by 60ft and yet the best memories I have ever had were contained within that space.
You will never be forgotten. If I live to be 100 you will likely be one of the last people I think about. Thank you for the memories we shared. Thank you for the love you gave. Your kindness. Your essence. Thank you for your physical presence here on Earth but most of all, thank you for the gift that was your life.
The date 1st September 2021 will be forever etched upon my sorrowed heart. I am lonely without you.
I loved you xx
I Miss You Xev xx
There has never been anyone like you.
I miss you Xev xx
What It All Boils Down To
I spent all of yesterday crying, worrying, regretting, wishing, thinking “I didn’t do enough” for my little fur pal, Xev.
I was remembering times when she came to visit with me but I was too busy working on things which felt oh so important at the time but actually weren’t at all because here I am and I could be doing them and all I feel is the palpable sadness and sense of loss due to the physical absence of my best friend.
That last day…
She was so frail. It took her a full half a minute to stand and yet when I awoke and called “Good morning Xev. Did you sleep well? Did you have nice dreams? I hope so” to where she was (which was sleeping on a chair about 10 feet away), I heard her jump down to the floor and make her way over to me. She climbed with great difficulty onto the sofa next to where I was laying on the floor.
I had been sleeping downstairs for months. I have another cat Bonnie but she (Xev) and her son Lexx would bully her so I would spend the days equally sharing time between them and then at night, I would sleep one night on the floor downstairs to be near Lexx and Xev and one night upstairs in bed to be with Bonnie. Usually though it was 4 nights with Xev and Lexx and 3 nights with Bonnie because Mum sleeps upstairs and there’s always company for her (Bonnie) at night.
So, going back to her last day (which I didn’t know was her last day) she jumped down from where she had been sleeping and walked over to where I was. She climbed up and over me with difficulty to get to the sofa and laid there right up close to me, where I stroked her and told her she was loved as I did every day. Lexx was on the sofa sprawled out beside her. I had said Good Morning to him too and told him he was loved. I never showed favouritism. Each cat got exactly the same amount of attention/affection. I just felt more of a closeness with Xev.
He soon got up and made his way outside. She stayed with me. Then it happened. She suddenly looked into my eyes and it was as if she was searching them. She had never looked at me like that before. It went on for about a minute and a half. I remembered the quote by Rumi – “What You Seek Is Seeking You.” In those precious moments, I became aware I was no longer looking into the eyes of a cat or even my best pal but rather the very depths of the Universe. I went into what I can only term a bliss state. I at first smiled and this made way for a grin. I beamed from ear to ear. We merged. There was no Xev and Jonathan. We were One.
It was at this point, she got up and it took a long time to do so as it was such an exertion for her. She moved across to where I was and climbed right up onto me so she was perched on my left arm (I was on my right side, looking towards the sofa where she had been), her little paws dangling over the edge of my shoulder and her little face looking down at me. I put my hand over her paws and she licked them. I stroked her from that very awkward position because she was laying on my left arm. I winked at her and she winked back. I had trained her to do that. She then began purring and did that long blinking cats do when they know they are safe and loved. I returned the compliment. Her purr was beautiful and contained within it so many frequencies.
We laid like that for perhaps 7 or 8 minutes and then I needed to get up. She slowly moved off and I went to have a pee, wash my hands and then went into the kitchen where I had a cup of tea. She came and stood just a few feet from me. She looked so small that morning. For some reason, I didn’t stroke her and that has bothered me however had she moved towards me, I absolutely would have done. She didn’t look up at me. Just stood there. She then went to get some water and I made my way through to the coffee table where I usually sat and used the computer.
She climbed up the armrest of the adjacent sofa just inches from where I was sitting and this exertion totally exhausted her. She half stood, half laid there shaking and panting. I moved across to her and kissed her left shoulder and she immediately began purring and leaned in to me. I told her she was loved, over and over again. That she meant the world to me. It was at this point I looked at Mum and we knew it was time.
I continued to hold her and told her she was loved, stroking her as she purred and continued to lean into me. I held her like this for 5 or 6 minutes before the carrier was placed in front of her. She fought against going in there, clinging to me. She wasn’t having any of it. Then I tried by lightly touching her paws and she let go immediately and got into the carrier with no issues at all. I didn’t know that would be the last time I would see her again or else I would have made a bigger fuss of her when she was inside the carrier. I regret not having done so.
I had no idea she was so close to death. They ran various tests at the vet’s and then she was sedated so she could be scanned. It was then they discovered she was ‘riddled with cancer.’ She was put to sleep very shortly afterwards and her passing was instant. She didn’t suffer at all.
I couldn’t be there when she died.
She died in the arms of a veterinarian, a stranger, because of all this Covid business.
She died just hours after I last saw her.
I regret not being around as much as I feel I could have been in the run up to her passing. I could have spent more time with her however when I think about it, I was there a lot of the time even if I wasn’t as actively present as I would have liked to have been and I slept down with her on the floor 4 nights out of every 7 each week. She lived in a warm, comfortable home with a beautiful garden and she was free to do as she liked. She had her toys which she loved playing with. She was told she was loved dozens of times each day.
So yes, I could have done things differently along the way but then I guess we could all say that however when it really mattered, I was there for her and when she signalled her quality of life was minimal, I absolutely did the right thing by her and I have zero regrets where that is concerned. So, with recriminations and regrets aside, what it all boils down to is that, at the end of the day, she knew in no uncertain terms, I cared about her and that she was loved.