Years after the last cat I cared for died, and after Abby at about the age of five had expressed interest in having a pet, we discussed the responsibilities - caring for them for their life. We started going to the animal shelter. I believe in adopting from shelters. Giving a home to the animals that otherwise would have none. I adopted Sarah, the one eyed very stinky clawless calico. My mom looked at me and said, "Are you sure." I was. No one was going to adopt that cat. She was cool. Smart, kind. Our perfect Golden Retriever Gideon LOVED to chase squirrels in the yard. He never came close. I saw Sarah pounce on a squirrel before.
We went to the shelter for a month, once a week, and saw Basil several times. She seems like a "normal" cat. I wanted a normal cat. Lucky, the all white two different colored eye cat was deaf, and eccentric. Not really loving so much. Venus was ancient and peed on my floor every day. I wanted a loving cat.
We did not get a normal cat. Basil was beyond awesome - a pure soul goddess. Long haired but did not shed. Softest most fluffy fur ever. Her markings were SOooooo beautiful. Little stripes in her arms, little curls on her belly, white pucker mouth adorable, a patch of the most golden glow on her leg, different colored pads on her paws. The pictures I took
never did her justice. She was not only beautiful on the outside, but the in.
She was so faithful. She followed us everywhere. Sat by us, slept with us, played with us. She was our constant companion. She loved to play string, eat wet food (her furry butt scampering towards the kitchen), sleep next to Abigail. She liked to sit on the porch, wander to the neighbors house to poop and catch mice. She was an indoor outdoor cat. She did not stay out long though. About 20 minutes at a time. Twice a day in good weather. I knew there was a risk, but there was no keeping her in. She would sneak out if she had to. I would listen for the pitter patter of her dainty paws as she ran up the stairs to be let in. I adored her. I kissed her and patted her little head and thanked her every time she comforted me. Abigail put hats on her and thought she was the best. I totally spoiled her and we fed her lots of treats. She loved life. She smiled a lot.
Two weeks ago on Saturday, I woke up and as usual did yoga, pushing her out of the way. She was practically glued to us. I went on about my day. It doesn't matter the details, although they are frozen in my head, but she did not come home. I knew, when that Saturday night, I begged and pleaded that I would give anything to have her back, it was too late. I found her on Sunday morning where I pick raspberries. She was still fluffy and pretty, but when I called her name she did not move.
I think I kind of knew:
1. That day or week I asked myself how long she would use her personalized bowls that I made for her.
2. I told myself that day or that week, "I hope my neighbors realize how much I love her" as she sat on the porch in the sun. She walked through their yard a lot, and I hoped they didn't resent her for it. One of the guys later asked if that was the cat (I was standing at her grave) and he said, "I just saw her." That was the last time anyone probably did.
3. I told myself it will start raining soon and get cold so she will be inside more often. She only had to live that moment, that one fucking moment. It has rained ever since. And her precious fluffy body is frozen in the ground.
4. On Friday, as I was leaving to go back to work after lunch, she was lounged on the chair. I went up to her, and hugged her, and thanked her so much for all she had done for me.
I am utterly devastated. I asked Abby how He could do that to her? She did not deserve that. She replied, "He didn't do that." "Why was He not looking out for her?" It is not fair in so many ways. Basil loved life. She never got to grow old. She was in the prime of her life! And now, I walk past where she died everyday. I walk past her grave everyday.
I thought we would all be together, our family unit, for another ten years. Abby was supposed to have her until she was a teenager. Abby said it was the worst day of her life so far. She said, "When you said you had bad news I didn't think it would be
that bad." She said she wanted Basil back even if she drinks out of the toilet. Weeks later, Abby is ok, but I still cry. I just loved her so much and I feel bad for
her.
Basil is a superstar in my heart.
