Neko, it's been one month since you made the transition and I miss my girl so much. I try not to cry, but sometimes the tears just flow and then I feel your presence come it comforts me.

At times I think of the happy moments we shared and I just have to smile:

Like the time you smacked the black olive out of Peggy's hand and then batted it across the kitchen floor for the longest time as if you had found the best cat toy ever.

Or how you insisted on drinking only bottled water (like me!) and refused to touch anything that came out of the faucet (I don't blame you!). It tickled me to no end that you would stare at me and then look at your water bowl and then stare at me and look back at your water bowl to make sure I understood that you needed a refill. I understood because we spoke the same language.

You acted grumpy around Lena and Luka, but I know that deep down you loved them as if they were your grandcats. Lena was a brat at times, particularly when you were trying to use the litter box and she'd lie in wait to ambush you. One grumble from you in her direction was all it took to make her think twice about continuing with her juvenile antics. Luka, the gentle giant, could be a bully and even tried to play-fight with you on a couple of occasions, but one hiss from you made him back off pronto. Thank you for maintaining your royal decorum and teaching the youngsters to show some respect.

And oh how you loved your treats! Papa made roasted chicken last night and I couldn't help but remember how you would wake up from a sound sleep to come get a couple bites. You also loved salmon and would walk around the house meowing before I even took it out of the oven. How I loved it when you'd walk around on your tiptoes, purring so loud I could hear you from three feet away, as you rubbed up against me in anticipation of getting a human food treat. My sweet little Fishface!

I miss not having you pull me away from the computer late at night (like right now) by staring at me with your big eyes, telepathically telling me it's time to go to bed.

I miss not having you patiently wait for me to get situated in bed with pillows and covers placed just so.

I miss not having to pick up a corner of the quilt on my left side to create a "cave," and then waiting for you to climb under the covers to "assume the position" in the crook of my arm. You'd stay in that position virtually all night long.

I miss not having you stretch out while you slept in the crook of my arm, your paws no longer touching my cheek, your claws no longer lightly digging into my skin as you dreamed.

I miss you, dear Neko for your love, patience, determination, support, concern, friendship, strength, humor, sensitivity, grace, simplicity and gratitude. When I looked into your eyes, I saw an old soul. You were my teacher and I was your student. I was priviledged and honored to know you and truly look forward to the time when we will meet again.

Till then, I wish you much love and peace. Please say hello to Chuck, Sable, Leo, Suki, Koko, Garbo, Tai Bok, Taffy and Brown Bunny for me, my dear sweet girl.

Oh Patti, I have to tell you, your wonderful memories of your Neko made me smile and giggle. Especially the one about swatting the olive and playing with it...what a silly boy!

I lost my precious Jack 16 days ago and am still having a *very* hard time. But I have moments where I'll remember something that I havent thought of in years....like when Jack was about 3 and my husband and I didnt want to go outside to get the paper (those freezing cold winters in San Diego, LOL). We'd stand at the front door and tell Jack "go get it"...he'd get so excited, he'd go sliding down the driveway. Sometimes he'd get it, sometimes he wouldnt. Sometimes he'd get it, start up the driveway with the paper in his mouth and get distracted and start playing outside, LOL!

I'm so glad you have these memories of your precious guy...one thing I'm doing is starting a scrapbook of Jack. I've started writing all the little things about him that I dont want to forget (like the paper story) and just things that we forget over time. He (like your Neko) were and still are such important parts of our lives and the way to keep their memories alive is to remember everything about them.

Take care...

Dawn

Dear Patti,

I loved reading about all your wonderful memories of Neko...especially the olive!

You've written a beautiful tribute to your kitty, Neko, who was beautiful inside and out.

Thanks for sharing these special memories. I'm thinking of you and Neko on her 1 month anniversary.
Hugs,
Kathleen

Thanks, Dawn and Kathleen, for your kind words.

Yep, Neko and the black olive incident was pretty funny. (She just SMACKED it right out of my sister's hand like, "Don't touch that!" and it went flying across the room. Of course, that set up the chase that went on and on because it didn't roll in a straight line like a ball would.)

Jack sounds like he was a real character too. A lab who didn't like water Guess he wasn't too thrilled with retrieving either

WARNING: this is long...But it's only day 2, and I need to do this.
Everything I read here is so healing. I also do not want to forget my Bear...not EVER! The thought makes me cry...that I will move on and not recall the pleasure of knowing him. It's only been a day...my roomates have been wonderful...sharing the tears, missing him too, devoting their time to cooking me dinner and just letting me talk. Ryan took me on a long walk last night. Oh, and Kujo our other cat has been extremely loving and attentive since yesterday...she's not a cuddle cat, and she's not mine... but she slept in my room last night (that never happened before!) and she walks up to me periodically and lays right on me.
_____________________________________________________________________________
If I may recall some of bear-cat's moments:
Hi Bear-cat...
We are keeping the doors in the hallways and bathrooms open now...no danger of you leaving "surprises" on the rugs, or of you waking the entire household up by walking up and down the hallway at 4 AM pretending to be a rooster waking up the farm-hands. No, now the doors stay open and I wish they could be closed in the morning to keep the illusion of you safe at home. The neighbors cat door is still taped shut...a way to keep you out since they have no cats of their own...I must tell them that you won't be bothering them anymore, you silly trouble-maker...You should go over there, Bear, and haunt their house now that a body doesn't hold you back! They had lot's of parties and you loved parties! Just one week ago we had a big potluck and you were such a star all night long...Kujo ran off and hid all night but you, even feeling under the weather, would not have missed a good party with lot's of people to sit next to, on or have a good conversation with. I remember Ryan pointing to you and telling me to look at how happy you were around crowds...such a character! We laughed a lot and that memory is one of my favoroits, seeing your head bobbing here and there interested in every new person to come through the door. This morning Ryan went to get a pan and became emotional when he found your hairs in it. I smiled indulgently, remembering your hide out...the pots and pans cupboard. I wonder what else you left in there? <_<
Today I realized that the ugly cyst/growth you had under your chin finally dissapeared only weeks before you died...Strange...it was your trademark and scared may people away from you. Not me.
I remember how I finally brought you to San Francisco from Santa Rosa where you were living with my mom until she moved. I decided it was time for me to keep you and take sole responsability for you...That was a hard adjustment for both of us, and you had a horrible eye infection, you were scared and you didn't like the city as much as Santa Rosa. But we made it, and supported eachother. I was going through a horrible break-up from a five year live-in boyfriend. You missed Mom, and the other animals. You drove me bannanas with your noise...I drove you bannanas by giving you baths all the time...I have since learned that it's just not neccesary to give cats baths...but you did shed a lot, and I thought that would help.
I remember how we tested eachother. I remember how you would want to go outside, and then 5 minutes later you would be below my second story bedroom window in another persons yard, meowing like a foghorn at me to come all the way down, climb over the fence and get you.
I loved you in my life so much, bear-cat....I loved how when you slept with me you insisted on having your paws on my arm, or on my face or hands...not below me, but on me...like you were claiming ownership of me. I always thought it was charmingly chauvenistic.
Miss you. Please give me signs!!! Give me signs of your continuuing existence!

Thank you for sharing your memories of Bear Cat. I really enjoy reading them. I'm so sorry for your loss.
Love,
Helena