So now I'm alone in the house. Or
am I?
When Andrew was alive, and working
long hours in his office, at his computer, Levi was in the habit of lying under
the desk at his feet.
In the last weeks of his life he
began to come and lie at my feet under my desk sometimes, when I was working at
my computer. I wouldn't always know he was there. Black cats can be almost
invisible in shadowy places. I would sometimes stretch out my foot only to have
it encounter a soft body. Then I would instantly move my foot back and
apologise – though actually it was always just a gentle touch, not a kick or anything.
On a recent evening, while I was
working at my computer, I stretched out my foot and it came up against the
familiar soft body. I drew it back immediately as usual, a reflex action by
now. Then I was sorry I did, as my mind remembered that Levi had been dead for 24
hours. I reached out cautiously with my foot again, but it was too late – only
empty air. And when I looked under the desk, of course there was nothing to be
seen that could account for what I'd felt, although I scrutinised the space thoroughly.
Still, I was very glad of that
fleeting moment, reminding me he was still around.
Subsequently I walked into the
spare room one day, where he used to like to sleep on one of the beds with the
sun coming in the window. The bed he favoured in his final weeks had an
impression on the top blanket, as if someone had sat there recently – or a cat
had lain there. But I had washed that blanket after he died, and replaced it on
the bed smooth and straight. I hadn't sat there since, nor rested a hand or
knee on it, and no-one else had been in the house in the interim.
Cats often hang
around a while after death, or revisit soon: little
ghostly presences. Some people see them, some hear familiar murmurs of greeting
as they pass a favourite nook. I have experienced both, with other cats. But feeling my foot touch him, seeing that
impression in the blanket – those are unique to Levi.
He always was a very special
individual!
splendid! how special!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry you lost them. I miss mine too.
ReplyDeleteFor times like these I believe memory is such a beautiful treasure. Take care.
ReplyDelete