November 23, 2009
Yesterday was a horrible day. It started with the realisation that it had been almost exactly a year since a friend of mine passed away unexpectedly. With reverent thoughts, I got up, got dressed and left the house with my boyfriend. We didn’t even get as far as the car before seeing what was obviously a dead animal at the side of the road. For a moment, I didn’t know quite what to think, couldn’t process my thoughts properly, but when I heard the words “It’s Eddy”, I ran back to the house as fast as I could, desperately trying to blot out what I’d just seen. It felt dreamlike, utterly surreal.
I should say a little about Ted and just why he was so special, not just to us but why he was actually really special. He was, essentially, a failed genetic experiment; a cross-breed between a Tonkinese and a Bengal. They are two very individual types of cat and ordinarily never the two shall meet but in this case they did and Eddy was one of around only seven of the results. He was mischevous, inteligent, loud, obnoxious, unruly, destructive, loving, attentive, hilarious and utterly fearless. The latter characteristic is unfortunately what he will probably be best remembered for and also what proved to be his downfall.
We inherited Eddy from a couple of friends who lived in a London flat and were unable to keep him in such a restrictive environment. Eddy was a cat that needed the freedom to roam around and get into trouble, and he did just that in spades. Integrating him into a household that already included two other cats wasn’t easy but after a week or two it was if he’d always been there and the three became firm friends who fought with, loved, looked out for, played with, cleaned and cuddled up with one another.
Some people have never had a pet and will never be able to understand the pain that a person goes through when that pet is hurt, or worse still, killed. It’s almost 36 hours later and I still feel heartbroken, swinging periodically between fits of aching melancholoy and just feeling utterly numb and devoid of any kind of emotion. The house feels different somehow and I keep seeing things in the corner of my eye that I expect to be him. I already miss him jumping at the curtains, opening the cupboards by himself, climbing on the mantelpiece, leaping in the air, lunging at my face whilst high on catnip, jumping at the bathroom light switch, forcing his way through closed doors, sticking his tongue out when I scratched that specific spot behind his ears, chasing after us when we left the house and greeting us with his unusual meow. His passing has left such a terrible void in the house and in all of us.
Since it happened I’ve been through several scenarios in my head, unnecessarily torturous as it may be to do so. Initially I felt distraght and hysterical. Now I feel guilt for not being able to protect him. I feel angry at the person who hit him with their car. I feel bad for feeling angry as it was almost certainly an accident and could have happened to anyone. I feel grateful that I still have two cats. I feel sad that he was only alive for 18 months and will never grow old. I feel regret at not having taken more photos of him or given him more hugs when I had the chance. Mostly I just feel incredibly unhappy that I won’t get to spend anymore time with him.
I take some small comfort from the vets insistence that his death was instant and that the creature I saw on the ground, matted wet fur, rigid limbs, open mouth, wasn’t Eddy at all. It was merely his casing, his shell. The essence of what made Eddy Eddy had left hours previously and to the religious-minded, had gone to a much better place. When I think of him it’s difficult to push that horrific final image to the back of my mind but over time I’ll be able to forget it and replace it with images of the way we knew him; with boundless energy and a cheeky, curious demeanor.
Our remaining two cats sit around the house, unable to settle and seemingly take turns to look for their departed friend. It’s heartbreaking to watch but they, like us, will feel better over time. Working from home means that I spend the majority of my time with my cats and they’re equal parts loyal companions, friends and as-good-as family members. Lord knows, sometimes I would much rather spend my time with a cat than a human, they’re cuter, more forgiving, less judgmental and for the most part, are better for hugs.
I’ll miss Eddy forever but I’m so glad I got to know him. He was a special little chap and touched the hearts of so many other people (and animals) so his loss is a great one. I like to think that he was happy here and he certainly made us happy, no question at all. Most people will never get to meet a cat as great as Eddy so I feel fortunate that I knew him for this short time.
Eddy, TedTed, Tedward, Edwardo, Teddybear, rest in peace and try not to cause too much trouble wherever you are now. You are absolutely irreplaceable and will be sorely missed.
June 15, 2009
Something that’s been on my mind recently is the fact that I feel I’ve grown up very quickly of late. I think moving out of your parents house is one thing but moving halfway across the country and 300 miles away from them is quite another as far as ‘being forced to really grow up’ goes.
That sounds like a complaint. I can assure you it’s not, I think it’s done me the World of good.
I’ve started to notice, more and more, that when something good happens to someone I know, rather than the jealousy I might have felt when I was younger, I’m genuinely really happy for them and that makes me feel genuinely really happy in general.
I’m less interested about owning lots of ‘stuff’. These days it’s more about the simple pleasures. If you were to ask me what makes me happy, I’d more than likely reply with one or more of the following; a cup of tea, playing a computer game with Matt, fussing one of our 3 cats, a clean and tidy house, eating food that we’ve grown in our own garden, a pint of cider with a friend on a sunny day, going to the seaside, introducing a good film to a friend and having them love it too, a phone call from my folks, making new jewellery, seeing the people that I care about, however briefly. That’s what life should be about, less about wanting what you can’t have and more about enjoying what you’ve actually got. If I could apply that rule all the time I’d be extremely content just about all of the time but I think I’m on the right track at least….
May 30, 2009
I’ve noticed recently that I’m losing my desire to be ‘punk rawk’. (That term kind of makes my skin crawl so please understand that I’m using it in an entirely ironic way as I don’t actually think I’ve ever been remotely punk or rock and especially not an amalgamation of the two.)
These days I’d much rather stay at home and play computer games, or write, or bake, or play with my cats than go out and tear up the town in a boozy fashion.
I think it’s nice to be able to subvert peoples pre-concieved notions of me. A lot of people still see piercings, tattoos, occasionally weird hair (although not of late) and assume I must some kind of Satan-worshipping, heavy-drinking, white trash nobody that’s up to no good. Having children stare at me in abject horror is a personal favourite of some of the reactions I’ve had. When they learn that I like Spring fetes, high teas, antique shops and car boot sales, most are a little taken aback. I’ve always had a fondness for the twee and more genteel things in life but I’ve started to embrace it fully and succumb to the simple life of domesticity and pleasant routine since moving to Canterbury almost a year ago. I think it’s safe to say that I’ve found my spritual home. (Ugh, hippy twoddle. Gag me.)
May 29, 2009
So, I’ve not been very prolific lately have I? Bad Sarah.
I quit smoking though. Good Sarah. I have no idea how long it will last but it’s been almost four weeks so far which is awesome.
I’ve started seeing an acupuncturist, she’s a lovely French lady called Nathalie and she’s very good at sticking pins in me and making it relaxing. I couldn’t tell you if it’s worked yet but I’ve been trying super-hard not to be such a neurotic stress-bunny and I’m coming along quite well. Even Matt’s noticed an improvement.
My parents have been staying in Canterbury for the past week which hasn’t done my stress levels or my high blood pressure much good though. It’s been nice to see them but it’ll be nice to have my life back tomorrow. I think a week is too long to be in close proximity to the people that made you, however much you love them.
I’ve also been keeping clear of red meat, spicy food and alcohol. I feel a metric fuck-tonne better for it but I don’t think forced detox is the best way to go about it. If I’d done it off my own back instead of at the instructions of a health professional then it might not have been so painful. Still, I’m healthier, my skin is better and my mood is fantastic almost all of the time so I can’t complain too much.
My ramblings are never linear, have you noticed? I have a tendency to go off on an entirely unrelated tangent. Oh well….
My new website is coming along really well. We’ve bought the URL and the design is looking good so now Jamie and I just need to knuckle down and furiously write enough reviews to make it worthwhile going live. It’s quite nice to have my finger in so many proverbial pies though. One day I’ll take over the internet. One day.
Anyhow, I have a prawn salad waiting for me downstairs and I’m currently a thirteenth level Elf in Baldurs Gate so I’m going to nerd-it-up for a bit and leave you to your, most probably, full and interesting lives.