Love Letter To Grey No.1 ::: Fog

It was an afternoon in April when we met. I had been up all night so that I could be in line for an exclusive Tori Amos concert at The Avalon in Boston. I wasn't sure which I was more excited about: being one of the two hundred to get a ticket or meeting my potential kitten later that day. I'd left messages with all the shelters looking for a cat like you after my landlord had reluctantly given me permission (I'd cried - and promised to adopt a declawed cat). "We don't get many declawed cats," I was told, but just a few days later a place in Arlington called me.

You'd been dropped off that morning by a couple who was having a baby; they didn't want you anymore. You were only 11 months. You were full grown, but never big. When the cage door swung open you stepped halfway out and gazed at me with your green eyes. I said, "Ohhh, that's him! He's the one!" and you walked over to me. That's when I saw that the tip of your tail was pure white, like it had been dipped in paint. I signed all the papers, got on the bus, and took you to Harvard Square. You seemed very timid and afraid, so instead of getting on the subway I walked down Mass Ave to Central Square with you. You weighed a ton in your big carrier, but I was so thrilled. I didn't want to be away from you, but I gave you some time alone in my room to adjust. My friend and I came back from dinner and had a glass of wine when you came out to meet us.

That was back in 1998. You came with the name of Fog, and since you responded I didn't feel right about changing it. Over the years people would say, "Ohhh, like the Carl Sandburg poem?" Yeah, sure, like that :) If I could have chosen your name it would have been shadow for your grey coloring and because you never left my side. It was annoying sometimes, like when I'd get up in the night to use the bathroom and you wouldn't just wait for me. You had to come, too. You followed me everywhere...you slept at night by my side instead of running about like the nocturnal thing you were supposed to be.

We saw each other grow up. You moved around the country with me. We were never apart for more than a few days.

You loved to be held, but only in a certain way. I remember how you'd feel in my arms and your deep rumble that translated to a purr.

I remember how much you loved to play fetch with foam balls. I remember you bringing me your toys while I slept and piling them on top of me. I remember your fascination with pipe cleaners and how you'd steal them when you could and then leave them for me in your food dish.

You didn't care for other cats, but one day you decided you liked a cat named Clover so we kept her. She got very sick after a year and died a block from the hospital. We were both heartbroken. A few months pass when a couple asked if we'd like to adopt one of their rescues - "only if you have a little grey girl," I replied. And they did. I named her Lily after the flower that means "dare to love again." And we did.

At first you didn't understand what that one pound, formula eating, gremlin was, but she sure loved you! She'd follow you around wanting to cuddle...but she was messy and you didn't want anything to do with her. You hated messes. Finally you took her under your wing and would lick her clean. You taught her to groom, and not to use her claws. Your constant grooming led to her needing her fur cut short - otherwise you would have choked on the furball that was Lily.

The years went by. You never left my side. Even on our last night together you slept next to me. It was your favorite place to be. You'd nestle there as I relaxed and either typed on my laptop or watched something. My body was so achy from the pregnancy that we spent a lot of time there surrounded by pillows. You'd started to lose your mind - dementia - and Brandon and I were worried. We talked about how much time was fair for you - we worried about how comfortable you were. You had all sorts of other symptoms but I'll let you keep your dignity and not mention them. Even so you still had your same goofy spirit. On Thanksgiving you decided you loved gnawing on corncobs - Brandon, my dad and I just laughed.

You were a loyal cat - devoted until the end. That last morning when I dashed out the door, late. I said, "Goodbye kittens! See you later!"

But I wouldn't.

That was it.

I cry every day, especially at night. I wonder if you're out there, lost, confused, and frightened...but I don't think you are. When I saw the apartment...the fire that had been at both doors, and rained from the ceiling...I still called your name. I called and I called. I still call as I walk alone through the neighborhood. Whenever I see a good kitten-hiding-spot I call for you both, but your names fall heavy, with a thud.

Nighttime is the worst. I wonder what your last moments were like. I hope you know that I loved you with more than my whole heart - I loved you with my soul. You were my favorite boy-cat. I wish I could have you back. I never, ever, ever dreamed your life would end that way. I thought you'd die in my arms with Brandon nearby. He loved you, too. He gave you treats and played wild games with you. You seemed grumpy, but I knew by the way you'd perk up and run to the door before I could even hear him that Brandon was home and you were excited.

I hope you felt loved. I hope you didn't feel abandoned. I hope it was quick and painless.

I wish this wasn't real.
Rest, sweet Fog.
I don't know when I'll stop hurting.
I don't know when the tears will calm.
But...
You'll live on forever in my memory.
I'm so sorry it happened this way.
<3