upon giving up my childhood friend
by Sarah Elisabeth
Roxy,
Here’s to
all the nights you started out at the foot of my bed and we awoke to sharing
the same pillow. To the home we both grew up in, the only place you ever felt
truly comfortable. I miss it too.
We’ve had a
long run, you and I. Seven years will make up about half your life. It’s
already a third of mine. I remember the day we brought you home, so small, a
gift for Dad. It soon became clear that you were really mine.
Maybe it’s
because we’re so alike that you claimed me for your own. Mom always said you
were me in cat form. You waited up for me and when I came home from work or
school you were always right there by the door. You memorized the sound of my
car locking, the way my footsteps echoed in the driveway. You waited faithfully.
When I’d go
out of town for weeks in the summer you were grumpy and upset. I’d come home
and you’d be angry until I smothered you in kisses and held you close. You
pretended not to like it, but I know you really did.
It was
music you loved the most. You’d sit beside me on the piano bench and tap the
keys with your paw while I played. Whenever I sang you would find me and purr
with all your might. Your purr was comforting. I would lay my head on your
belly and listen when I was sad. You always knew when I needed you. You didn’t
even mind when your fur grew wet from catching my tears. You would purr still harder
and lick my face and hands.
Do you
carry the memories too? Can you, in your cat-mind, hold anything beyond knowing
when I’ll feed you next and what kind of yogurt you like best? I know you’re
only a cat but sometimes you seem nearly human and I can understand how we love
those who are only quiet and faithful. Your utter dependence brings us joy. You
are so special to me.
I recall
the long car rides to the vet and back. You became frightened and I sang to you
to make you feel even just a little bit safer. You made me feel safe sometimes
too. In the dark when the house creaked and groaned in the wind I would hold
you close until I fell asleep.
I started
college and all the family moved away. You made me feel like something of home
remained. When Zack and I married you loved him too, even though you are shy
and love few. You were our first baby. When we sang together you’d find us and
purr, kneading the pillows with your paws to show just how happy you were. That
usually made up for all the times you threw up on the carpet and we stepped in
it.
Your odd
quirks made us laugh. Knocking my clock off the desk every morning, opening
cabinets, pushing your paws under the doors, babying anything that sat still
long enough to lick. Many pets came and went over the course of my childhood,
but you stayed always. Faithful.
