When was the last "normal" day with the three cats I bought with me here? I look back at a comment that Twinkle hadn't been herself since the previous Tuesday. I seem to recall associating noticing she wasn't well with my dad's birthday. If that's so, Sept. 27, 2011, was our last (apparently) normal day together, the four of us. One by one they've gone. Now of us four, there's only me.
Bonnie returned home today, in a way. About 12:30 this afternoon I took the elevator down to meet the doctor in the lobby. She handed me a blue box, the third such box I've received since October, 2011. This one contained a ceramic pawprint and an urn that holds all that remains of my little Pumpkin Girl. We spoke for about ten minutes, near the conclusion of which, a man of retirement age came in, spotted my shirt, and interrupted us with "HMCS Haida?" Threw the vet and I both for a loop. The man went on to revealed he'd served on the ship, the last of its class remaining and now a floating federal museum, in the early 1960s, including the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was a strange moment of deep sorrow splashed with a quirky happy coincidence.
Larry had the day off and he was upstairs in my living room. I brought what was left of my sweet Bonnie back home. In the elevator, alone for a moment, I hugged the box and was finally moved to tears. I had Bonnie back. Not the way I would ever have wanted, but... she was back.
So we put on a movie, Almost Famous, and with a few belts of maple-flavoured Crown Royal in Diet Pepsi, we set to work assembling the glass cabinet I bought Wednesday night as a newer, more fitting home for the cats and human whose remains I've gathered in the past 11 years. We built it in the living room over about half a hour or so, and moved it to the dining room where the bookshelves were till a few months ago. I haven't moved everything over yet. I think that's for tomorrow. For tonight, Bonnie is resting on the top shelf of the armoire in the dining room, at the far right side, along with Jody, Jenny, Twinkle, and Max.
I hope that's as many of these things as I'll have for a while.
Incidentally, and I mention this just in passing for future reference, this afternoon Larry also helped me assemble the bed frame that I got from Bolt, though that took only about five minutes. So, for the first time in at least I year, I have a bed properly off the floor again. In a way, I'm glad I the bed was lower. It made it much easier for Bonnie, and she never had an issue getting onto the bed. I remember just before Jenny died, she couldn't manage it anymore, and wanting her to feel normal again, I put her up onto it. She immediately decided she wanted down, and before I could catch her and help her, she awkwardly threw herself off and into the wall. At least Bonnie never suffered that indignity.